#I like doing these edity ones where I get to make things that look like they belong in the universe

[mgrace-art]

New issue of Ink hot of the press!

Find it in the checkout of all your local grocery stores!

Unblurred Version for your pearlina needs

[cerridwen007]

Candy Cane.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (afab)

Word count: 1.6 k (18+ MINORS DNI!)

Summary: Frankie can’t help but stare as you suck on that candy cane, very reminiscent of some of your other favourite things to suck on.

Notes/warnings: SMUT, fluff, Frankie being an adorable cheeky menace, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, inappropriate use of a candy cane, swearing, no y/n, probs bad spanish. ( Let me know anything else if I missed it)

A/N: Yall, it's been way too long since I last posted, and for that, I'm very sorry. Work has been exhausting me, and I've just lacked motivation to do much writing. So take this early, smutty Christmas fic as my apology. Honestly, I don't know how good it is/how well editied it is as I wrote it in less than 24 hours as the idea just came to me as I was sitting down eating a candy cane, much like reader. Wink wink. Also, this is my first Frankie fic I've posted, so yay for that. I've got a few wips in progress for this cutie, so be ready for that. Likes, comments, and reposts are always appreciated. I'll post this to my A03 soon, which is linked in my bio, if you prefer reading on that platform. Hope yall enjoy.❤️🫶

*********

Frankie couldn't help but let his jaw drop in awe of you unconsciously sucking on a candy cane very reminiscent of how you sucked his dick merely a few days ago. How you always sucked his dick so good, leaving him a pathetic whining mess. His dick was throbbing as he watched your delicate fingers hold the curved end, twisting it up and into your mouth while your mouth bobbed up and down.  An unbothered look on your face as you read your book, completely unaware of the effect you were having on your boyfriend sitting on the couch on the other side of the room from you.

Frankie can't help but groan a little,  just loud for you to hear as it escapes the back of his throat. You look over to the other side of the room, where he sits on the couch palming his hard length through his jeans; sports playing on the tv long forgotten, as he stares at you with glazed over, dark eyes. Your smile grows wide when you realise just how you had been affecting him with such a mindless innocent action. Your hand holding the candy cane drops, leaving only your teeth to uphold the fruity, striped stick. 

“You alright, sweetheart? You seem a little…distracted there.” You tease him as your eyelids droop to a flirtatious look.

He coughs a little before he answers, stumbling over his words. “Y-yeah, I'm doing real good, baby.”

You hum around the sweet confectionary, very reminiscent of a moan of pleasure, making sure to hollow your cheeks as the tart flavor hits your tongue.

“Wanna taste, baby? You're looking awfully desperate to have something sweet.” You say, holding the confectionary out to him, with your eyebrow raised.

He groans, squeezing his crotch, not managing to get out any words or approval other than an enthusiastic nod. You chuckle to yourself as you slowly get out of your seat and walk over to stand in front of Frankie. You lean down and place your hands on his knees, batting your eyelashes at him. One of your hands reaches up and twists the candy cane so the whole straight part disappears down your throat before it pulls it out again and you hold it out for Frankie to lick. He surprises you as he wraps his big hands around your back and hips and grabs you quickly to straddle his lap. 

“Frankie!” You giggle, taken off guard, leaving your smooth, sexy facade down for a second.

“Sorry, mi vida. Needed to have my sugar fix as close as possible.”

He kisses you with such fervour it takes you a moment to kiss him back, caught off guard as you both moan into the kiss.

You pull back with a smirk and hold out the candy cane again for him to suck. He grins as he takes the sweet treat into his mouth and groans, still tasting you in his mouth from the kiss and on the candy cane.

“Mmmh delicious sweetheart, but nothing will ever taste nearly as good or as sweet as you, mi amor.”

He twists his body again and throws you back onto the couch, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles.

He grins against your skin as kisses down your jaw, creating a path down your neck and collar, down between your breasts through your shirt. He shuffles down the couch, continuing to trace his lips down your body, slowly removing every bit of clothing that gets in the way of his lips tasting your skin. You can feel his hard cock throbbing against you as he slides his way down, matching the throbbing pulse of your clit. 

“Frankie…” you whine as he reaches your hips, pulling down your sweats slowly off your legs, tossing them somewhere on the floor. A devilish grin orderned on his beautiful face as he lowers his head, breathing in the scent of your arousal through your panties before biting the lacy fabric and moving them off you with his teeth. His hands are holding up your legs for better access as follows the curves of your calf. He tosses your panties to the ground and begins to plant soft kisses and bite down your raised legs all the way back down to your dripping heat.

Your face hurts from smiling as you watch Frankie show you his playful love and affection, he grins back at you and cups your face gently with one hand, to which you nuzzle into. He lowers his face back between your thighs and finally takes a firm lick up your folds, making you both moan. He has to reach down and palm himself through his uncomfortably tight jeans yet again  as he sucks your clit and licks into your oozing hole, muttering to himself about how good you taste. He reaches up to grab at your wrist and pin it into the couch before trying to grasp at what you're still holding; the candy cane. He looks up at you with dark eyes when his finger plucks it from your grasp and holds it to your mouth. 

You immediately suck it deep into your mouth before he can even ask. He growls before removing it from your red lips and dragging it down your body. He sucks it back into his mouth before running it back and forth through your folds, catching it deliciously on your clit every time, he watches in awe as your body shakes and squirms, telling of your impending orgasm as it reaches its peak.

“Come for me sweet girl.”

You become a babbling mess of incoherent swears as Frankie works you through your high. He fucks the candy cane into your cunt, following everwhere he traces it with his tongue, moaning at the sweet, delicious taste of you and the candy cane. He brings you to another high quickly after, enjoying another round of your sweet release hitting his tongue. Only stopping when you push his head away, pussy worn and oversensitive.

He kisses your inner thighs and works his way back up your body, licking up the sticky trail the candy cane left earlier, you grab both sides of his face and kiss him deeply, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You pull away after a few minutes to catch your breath and bite your lip. Pupils blown wide staring at the man that you love so deep with all of your being. You knew you just had to return the favour, especially because the thought of you sucking his cock started this whole thing in the first place. 

After littering his swollen lips and red face with soft kisses, you begin to sit up to change your position, pushing your hands firmly against Frankie's chest to push him back against the back of the couch before sliding down to your knees in front of him. His cock is aching, he whines a little as he watches you undo his belt and zipper, pulling his pants off in one go.

You palm him through his black boxers, the front covered in a pre-cum stain. You look up at his disheveled state through your eyelashes, your eyes blown wide with lust. He swallows harshly as you reach under the band of his underwear and pull out his hefty length. He watches you licking your lips from the last of the sweet residue coating them, your mouth watering from the salty flavor soon to be gracing your tongue.

You lean your head forward and let a big glob of spit drop onto the tip, quickly lubing him up with your hand and small slow strokes. Your lips envelope his furiously swollen tip, tongue twisting around the curves. His hand falls to your jaw, holding it softly, a plea to keep going, don't stop. His head falls, eyes squeezing shut before he forces himself to not miss anymore of the gorgeous sight of you before him on your knees.

Your other hand reaches out, playing with and lightly squeezing his balls. Your other hand tightens its grip around his girth, strokes growing faster. You pull your mouth off him, raising his cock up, so you can dip your head and lick up from the bottom of his length all the way back up to his head and through his slit. You mouth quickly attaches back onto him, sensing he is close by his mumbled praises, and his desperate “fuck”s that has you clenching your thighs together as the throbbing returns.

You turn your head to the side a bit so the tip of him is sticking out prominently through your reddened checks as you bob up and down on the tip. The sight combined with your sinful, moans causes Frankie to suddenly shoot his load into your mouth giving you little warning other than a loudly groaned “Fuck” as the salty cum fills your mouth. You make a show of swallowing till every drop is gone, licking your lips and then opening your mouth wide to show Frankie that you had indeed swallowed all it.

Through his post orgasim bliss, sweaty and heaving, he manages to reach down and give you a messy, sloppy kiss. The taste of both of your pleasures being exchanged between the both of you. You pull away and sigh deeply, letting some much needed air into your lungs, as you rest your head on his naked thigh, looking up at him lovingly. He caresses your check, affectionately. You both open your mouths at the same time to say that “you'll have to buy some more candy canes soon.” Making you both fall into a fit of laughs. It really was going to be a sweet holiday season.

***********

[theawkwardundercoverwriter]

Chris Evans X reader

Aurthor’s note: I have no idea if anyone will enjoy this. If you want more you can request. Not editied. 

*Chris trying to find you in the hospital after you’ve had an accidnet.*

The disinfected burns your nose as you search for comfort in the lifeless white walls that enclose you. You’d been admitted to hospital earlier that morning. You’d opted for minimal health care which meant sharing a room with three other people. The man to your left continuously let out a torturous groan with every minute that passed, while the two women opposite your bed relentlessly bicker - each declaring blame on one another for their injuries.  Their quarrels only add to your already pounding headache.

Your arm cries out in the form of a constant ache. The stitches above your eye lightly sting while huge purple blotches begin to litter your body. Getting hit by a car wasn’t on your to-do list for the day. A man accidentally ran a red light while you were crossing the road and unfortunately your reflexes weren’t quick enough to dodge the tonne of metal hurling towards you.

  You were showered with profuse apologies and concerned on-lookers. The ambulance ride was a blur as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

  Four hours later, here you lay in the midst of a fierce battle between two strangers. A broken arm, a light concussion and eight stitches a week before Christmas. You’d lost the internal battle and called Chris an hour ago; the urge to contact him was overwhelming but he’d been so stressed out lately. You didn’t want to add any more pressure. He was having a hard time at work, prepping for an intense scene and the last thing you wanted to do was add to that, but you were cold, sore, and shaken up. The desire for your fiancé’s comforting embrace only grew as the hours ticked on.

  Aimlessly pulling at a loose thread in the sheets, you wait for what seems like an eternity. A big part of you was surprisingly anxious to see Chris. It’s hard to decipher whether it’s down to the drugs, the embarrassment or the realisation that you were going to become an official burden to him this Christmas. Your perfect holiday plans were ruined. You had so many surprises instore for Chris, he deserved a well needed rest, and you were determined to make that happen, but now those plans were up in flames.

  “Y/N?” A voice echo’s from down the hall abruptly interrupting your train of thought.

“Where is my fiancée?” Chris’s voice demands, “I’ve been searching this hospital for 20 minutes.” The louder his voice travels to your room, the deeper the shade of red enflames your cheeks.

  Muffled voices become louder and louder causing you to sink deeper into your bed with every step inching closer to your room. Scrunching your eyes you wish to become invisible knowing you are about to be engulfed by a million questions and a tiring inquisition.  

  “What the hell Y/N!?” You hear him gasp in frustration as he takes in your appearance. “I’ve spent half my time here looking for you.” As he paces towards the bed you can see his eyebrows anxiously knitted together under his cap and his shoulders tense under his winter coat. “I expected to find you in a private room, but you were nowhere to be found. Only after interrogating half the staff do I find out that my fiancée has opted for minimal treatment!” His blue orbs are clouded with fear as he anxiously tugs at his hair.

  He turns to the nurse who admitted me, “Why is she not in her own private room getting the best treatment there is?” You feel your ears burn as he questions the staff, before they can get an answer, he continues his rant “I can buy this hospital ten times over -”

“You can but I can’t” You meekly interrupt, “I don’t have the money for a private room, so please Chris, please, don’t take it out on the staff, it’s me who you should be mad at, not them.”

The anxiety in his eyes morphed into mild frustration as he let out a sigh. “Did you ever think to let me take care of it?”

  “I’m sorry.” You croak as you bite back tears. He must have sensed your defeated tone as his eyes softened.

  The room fell to a heavy silence. The fierce bickering from the other patients had grown to a halt and you became painfully aware that all eyes were on you.

  “I’m so sorry Mr Evans, she didn’t want any extra treatment. She asked for the minimum, I hope you can understand.” The nurse interjects as she tightly smiles. “Y/N will be here overnight for observation. If you would like I can take her to her own private room and then we can discuss further treatment options.” She offers with an encouraging smile.

  “Yes, that would be perfect, I want all expenses billed to me whatever is necessary.” Chris replies, as he stops to read her name badge, “Gwen”, Chris sighs as he scratches the back of his neck searching for the words to an apology.  “I’m so sorry for my outburst, you don’t deserve that. Instead of yelling at you I should be thanking you for taking care of my girl.” He shoots her an apologetic smile which she seems to openly accept.

  “I understand Mr Evans, it’s quite all right. You’ve both had a big scare today. Give me five minutes to make room arrangements.” She places a hand on Chris’s shoulder offering a moment of comfort, then quickly darts out of the room.

“You didn’t need to make a fuss.” You groan as you direct your gaze into your lap refusing to look at Chris. “I opted for minimal health care because 1. I can’t exactly afford it right now, and 2. I didn’t think it was that serious.” You mumble. Chris picks up a chair and sits it next to your bed. He gently takes your hand in his rubbing comforting swirls back and forth.

“Y/N, look at me.” He demands softly, “Please baby.” He whispers while tucking a lose strand of your hair behind your ear. His gentle touch immediately melts your heart. Looking up at him you’re met with his gorgeous blue orbs, filled with concern and adoration. With just one glance your stomach does a flip. Any anger or shame you felt evaporates.

“I’m sorry let’s try this again.” He softly smiles, “Hey, beautiful.” Chris gently kisses your cheek as he assesses the damage. “Are you okay?” Concern is etched into his face as you wince trying to readjust yourself to be closer to him.

“I’m sore, but I’m okay. Truthfully the only thing I could think about for the last hour was seeing you.” You mumble as you bring your joined hands to your mouth, kissing the back of his palm. “I’m sorry I yelled; I was just so scared when I couldn’t find you. They wouldn’t give me your patient information since I’m not direct family yet.” He sighs leaning closer to you. “I was a mad man.”

“Goof ball mixed in with a mild touch of idiot more like it.” You smirk causing him to chuckle.

  “I was a full blown idiot.” He sighs, “Let me take care of you Y/N. I don’t want you to ever have to worry about finances.” He declares smugly.

  “But…” You begin to argue but he cuts you off with a cheeky kiss.

  “You win every other argument, just this once, give up because I won’t ever let you go without, especially medical care of all things.” His eyes shine with adoration. “I love you Y/N, and unfortunately there is nothing you can do about it.” He seals his declaration of love with a kiss and stands up to readjust your pillow.

  The nurse, Gwen, appears in the doorway with a couple of orderlies in tow. “Ready?” She smiles.

“Let’s get you patched up baby.” Chris says as he gently caresses your shoulder sending you a goofy smile instantly making you feel 10 times better.

[jollyrancher87]

Punch Drunk

🐸Mando x Fem! Reader🐸

Because we need some serotonin Right NOW!! Please excuse any misspellings I rushed editied this.

Summary: Mando has had a little TOO much fun after capturing a very lucrative bounty.

Rating: soft M, just to be safe, it gets a lil saucy. 18+

Warnings: Fem! Reader, drunk Mando, mentions of saucy intentions, sweet talk, Soft! Mando, a little bit of an emotional drunken Mando, slight breeding kink maybe?

🐸🐸🐸

It had taken you hours, but you had finally gotten the Child settled into bed. He'd been an absolute terror today. Refuseing to eat his meals, he always preferred when Din fed him. He threw a fit when you tried to give him a bath, wailing and climbing up you when you tried to set him into the warm water, Din always knew how to get him in the tub with no problem. Tucking him into bed, forget it. He kept sneaking out whenever you turned your back. You knew why he was so fussy, Din had been gone for two days from the Crest. A bounty was offered to him by Greef Karga, far too lucrative to ignore, he said he'd be back as soon as possible. You knew better than to worry, but still, a twist always formed in your gut when you looked out the hatch and didn't see him makeing his way home on his speeder.

You settled down into the cot, the lights dimmed, a night of restless sleep ahead of you. Nothing but the soft breath of The Child, and the hum of the Crest to keep you company. You almost drifted off to sleep, but the hiss of the hatch opening startled you awake. Your heart jumped to your throat as you reached for the blaster you kept under the cot, ready to face the intruder despite how much you were shaking. The booted footsteps of two people echoed through the hull, men you could only assume, you were ready to scramble over to a hiding spot until you heard the distinct laugh of Karga.

Your shoulders dropped, you felt dizzy as your adrenaline fell, but the relief you felt out weighed any discomfort. You sank onto your knees on the cot, putting the blaster back under the cot.As they made their way into the hull, you suddenly remembered you had stripped down to your thin silken underdress. You wrapped your blanket around yourself to hide the sheer fabric from your guests eyes.

You let out a gasp as they rounded the corner. Greef was struggling to walk as he bared the beskar covered weight of Din. Greef had one of Dins arms braced across his shoulders while he held onto Dins waist. Din's helmet covered head lolling from side to side, his feet practically dragging, his body leaning to the side like he was about to fall over, incoherent mumbling coming through his modulater. Karga laughed and patted his back.

"You've arrived my friend." He noticed you in the bed,"oh, please excuse us, we didn't mean to wake you."

You scrambled from the cot, not careing about how sheer you shift was. You rushed to Din, your hands settling on his helmet, trying to keep his head up.

"Maker! What happened? Is he hurt?" You asked Karga frantically,"Din? Mando? Are you alright?"

"He's fine, he's fine." Karga assured, as he slowy helped Din stand on his own," we were just celebrating! The biggest bounty he's ever acquired, in the shortest time too!" He pat Dins shoulder, the sudden impact makeing Din lean into you. You let out a squeak of suprise from how heavy he was. Karga swore and apologized again as he helped Din stand up right.

"So...he's-"

"Drunk!" Karga laughed,"and he deserves it, that bounty can buy you both a new ship. Hell it could buy you a palace. He'd never have to work again if he wanted. Course we know that won't happen."

"How did he get drunk?" You asked,"He can't drink anything with his helmet on."

"Thats where you're wrong," Mando said, his voice slurred and slow, his head lolling to the side,"I can.....jus need a really....really...really long straw."

"Oh Din." You sigh.

Din suddenly gripped Kargas jacket pulling him up to him.

"L-look at her..." Din slurred through the modulator as he gazed at you," She's so...pretty." he says,"have you ever seen anyone so pretty?" Karga just laughed but was cut off when Din shook him, "Well HAVE YOU?" he snapped.

"No, can't say I have Din." Karga reassured, patting his hand,"You're a very lucky man."

You felt your face grow warm at the complement. You dipped your head and made your way to help take off Dins jetpack.

"I am lucky," he mummered," prettiest girl on the whole galaxy...on my ship...caring for my son." You heard a faint sniffle from him as you set the heavy pack on the ground.

"Its ok,Din." You say softly, placing your hand on his chest plate. He rested his leather clad hand over yours as he looked down at you."Thank you for bringing him back to me in one piece," you said to Karga,"I can take it from here."

Karag nodded and said his good bye, slapping Din on the back before leaving, the hatch shutting with a loud thud.

You looked up to Din, his gaze burning through his visor down to you as he slightly wobbled. Suddenly he lunged forward, his helmet smacked against your face, making it sting. His hands gripping your ass , kneeding it harshly.

"Ow! Din!," you cried, he rubbed his helmet against your face as you gripped his armored shoulders,"what are you doing?" You half laughed.

"Kissing you." He mumbled,"I just wanna kiss you."

You laughed,"Din-"

"Im gonn buy you all the jewels-"

"You know I dont need those-"

"Furs-"

"Din," you coo, carressing his helmet.

"A home."

"That I'd love," you sigh wrapping your arms around his neck as he rests his helmet against your shoulder,"you and me and the Child, in a cozy little home-"

"Gonna fill it with warriors," he mumbled,"a new one..... every year."

You laughed,"thats a lot of babies, Din."

"And I wanna give them to you."

"Alright, you need to sleep." You grin as you try to nudge him off you.

He takes a deep breath and stands up straight.

"I'm going to kiss you." He declared as he wobbled.

"Oh? Where?" You tease as you tried to pull him towards the cot.

"Right here, right now!" He said as if it were a threat.

"No, where do you want to kiss me, Din?"

He raised his hand and tapped his gloves finger against your forehead.

"Here..." he gently gave your cheek a tap,"Here..." he ran his thumb over your lips, "Here." He nearly growled, his chest risieng and falling as his breath got heavier.

He ran his finger over your chin, down your neck,"Here," he sighed, continuing down your chest, makeing his way between your breasts,"Here. Def...definitely here." He shuddered, "I want to kiss you here so bad." He groaned, and ran his large hand smoothly down your stomach,"here." his voice a near shudder as he reached down to your core,"but this...I want to kiss this. I'll take off all my armor, and forsake the Creed, just for the chance to kiss you here."

You took his hand from between your thighs and placed it onto your chest.

"You would?" You smile.

"What?" He snapped,"dont believe me?" He challenged.

You only smiled wider as he ripped his hand away from you.

"I'll do it!"he threatened, you crossed your arms over your chest, brow raised in a challenge. He grabbed his helmet and lifted it off, spiking it onto the soft cot."See! I did it!"

His hair was as unkempt as ever, his deep brown eyes wide and bloodshot as he looked down at you. You stepped forward, and carresed his stubble and scared covered cheeks, and kissed him. Your lips gentle against his as you softly peppered his lips and cheeks with kisses. He was frozen against you, his arms limp at his sides.

"Oh Maker, I just broke the Creed-" he whispered.

You nuzzled against his cheek, running your finger down the bridge of his sharp nose.

"Din...we made our Riduurok four months ago."you whispered. He stumbled back his eyes wide, as he swallowed hard.

"You, you mean...you're my...my..."

"Wow, Din, you are drunk. You need to get into bed." You ordered as you nudged him to the cot making him sit. His mouth hung open as you took off his armor and weapons, genlty setting them to the side.

"You married me?" He nearly wimpered, you placed a kiss to the top of his head.

"Yes Din." You said gently as you took his armor, various weapons and helmet and placed it on a nearby table.

"Really?" He sniffed, you looked back and saw him on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Din," you sigh as you stand between his spread legs, pulling his head to your stomach as you ran your hand through his unkempt hair"yes, really."

"You married me?" He asked as he buried his face into you, his voice muffled,"you're my Riddur?"

You laugh softly," yes, kar'ta."

He sniffed loudly before looking up at you, his eyes brimming with tears. "Really? Like, really really?"

You leaned down and nuzzled his face,"your the only man I'd ever marry my brave, handsome, fiercesome, warrior." You kissed him again.

He stood suddenly, and wiped away a stray tear that slid down his face before a stern look came over him. He cleared his throat.

"I need to give you warriors."

"Cyar-"

He ripped off one of his gloves and tried to undo his flight suit while moving to kneel on the bed,"right now!"

"Baby-"

"Jus- jus lay down, I'll do all the work,"He pulled you down on to the bed as you laughed at his clumsy attempt to disrobe,one arm and half his torso out of his suit.

"Gotta do my duty, fill your belly, with...with my..."he grumbled as he struggled to undo his belt,"seed, DAMN THIS THING!"

You grabbed his hands to stop him, "Din, you've already filled my belly with a warrior, remember, we made our baby after we said the vows."

He slumped down, and blinked, as he sat stunned. You took advantage of his state and nudged him till he layed flat on his back. His eyes staring up at you. He reached up and carresed you're cheek.

"I love you, Mesh'la." He said.

"I know." You sighed,"I love you too my feirce warrior."

"I hope our baby looks like you." He says as you try to roll him onto his side.

"I hope our baby is as brave as you."

"No. You're the brave one," he mumbled into his pillow,"the pretty one, the strong one, with an ass that brings me to ruin."

You had to cover your mouth to keep from busting out laughing. "Go to sleep darling."

"But I wanna look at you." His voice muffled from the pillow.

"You can look at me all you want tomorrow."

"But I wanna look at you now!" He whined.

You sighed and rolled him over to his other side until you were met with his drunk grinning face.

"You're so pretty." He slurred, his still gloved hands grabbing your hip,"c'mere." He urged you down.

You nestled down next to him, his eyes slowly shutting, his hand rubbing your side.

"Look at you," he slurred,"so sweet, so soft...so...so beautiful." His brows furrowd suddenly,"wait..I can't see you! Why can't I see you!?"

"Din open your eyes."

His eyes snapped open, a slap happy grin spreading across his face, "Oh Maker, you're so clever," His hand left your side and landed on your cheek a little harsher than he intended,"how did I find you?"

"I was a bounty remember?"

He was quiet for a moment,"oh yeah....I'm so glad you're a criminal."

"Can you go to sleep for me Din?"

"Can I use your tits as a pillow?"

Before you could respond he was already pushing you onto your back, his face buried into your chest. You sighed and were about to push him off of you but the sound of him snoring stopped you. He was asleep, you were ready to try to drift off into uncomfortable sleep when you heard a coo by your side.

Looking down you were met with the wide sleepy eyes of The Child standing by the bed, his ears perked up with a tiny smile on his face. He climbed up onto the bed and over you, nestling in the small space between you and Din, his little face nuzlleing into your belly.

You groaned, it was going to be a long night.

Thank you for reading xoxo

[samshogwarts]

Character Profil - Samantha O´Connell

Ok Guys, first things first - this will be a very long Post with every Information about Samantha which have already been published. And this Post will be editied time by time. But so that it doesn't get too long, I will put the Informationen under the Line. Based on this Character Profil, I draw my web Comic. So let´s go!

Last Update: 3rd Aug, 2020

Amortentia (What do they smell like?): Grass field on a summer sunset, Candle smoke and a bit of vanilla.

Amortentia (What do they smell?): grass, fire, smoke, honeysuckle (Charlie Weasley), a forest after the rain.

Faceclaim: -

Voiceclaim: her singing voice: AmaLee (I´m a stupid Fangirl)

Samantha O´Connells Story

Before Hogwarts:

Childhood:

Samantha was born in Ireland as the dauther of the pureblood witch Claire O´Connell and the Vampire Wizard Matthew O´Connell. Grow up with a many love, Samantha doesn´t know any evil and starts to be a daydreaming girl. As a half-Vampire she didn´t drink blood, but still have some (weak) Vampire-Power, like inhuman ears and a fast Wound healing.

Even her father was a Vampire who visted Hogwarts, he runs a muggle hospital and never understand why the wizard world don´t use muggel technogoly like a Fringe or Telephone. One Night, her father got a emergency call from his hospital. In that night Deatheaters break into the O´Connells house with the goal to kill the hole family. Claire O´Connell was a shame for the Wizard World because she married a monster and her daugther wasn´t allowed to existed. 

Clarie hides her daughter in a secret Base behind a Closet and say “What ever you heared, don´t come out. Stay hide. I love you” This was the last time Samantha saw her mother alive. Before Claire could leave the room, she was surrounded by Deatheaters. They tortured her, trying to find out where she hide the “little monster”. The only thing Claire scream was: “STAY HIDE! DON´T COME OUT!” What nobody knows was, that Samantha saw everything. She saw how her mother was tortured, she saw all the blood and she saw her mother was finally killed. 

Before the Deatheaters could find Samantha, the Auror showed up and defeted the enemy. 

The funeral and the life with the Roberts:

After that night nothing was the same again. Samanthas father becomes cold and distant. On the funeral a old friend of Claire showed up - Angela Roberts and her son Jacob Roberts. Jacob was a few year older than Samantha and take care of her the hole funeral. Angela and Matthew talked to each other that maybe it would be the best if Samantha would stay a few days with the Roberts. So Samantha goes with them, without knowing this was the last time she saw her father for a very long time.

One week later Angela Robert filed a lawsuit in the ministery. She wants the custodyfor Samantha because Matthew is a dangouers Vampire and against the magic world. She wins, but never tells Samantha, that it was her idea. Angela tells her new adopted daughter it was her fahters idea because he can´t look in her face anymore (because she looks like her mother).

The next hell in Samanthas life showed up, because her adopted mother was obsessed with the idea to turn Samantha in a Claire 2.0(the way Angela saw her mother). Samantha was crowded to dress, to act and to talk like “ a true lady”, a princess, a tender flower. She hated it. Only Jacob helped her and stopped his mother sometimes. He starts calling her “Pip” because he reads Lord of the rings (Samantha gave him the book”, and Samantha calls him gib brother or Jacke. It was the worst time of her life, when Jacob was in Hogwarts and Samantha couldn´t wait to become a hogwarts student too. But then Jacob vanisted and Samantha has to faced her adopted mothers paranoia alone (which become worsted, because of Jacobs Vanish). The psychological terror becomes physically (Details unkown). But finally her Hogwarts letter arrived one day and Samantha saw her first chance to be free or even to find out what happend to her brother....

Hogwarts

Hogwarts Year 1-3:

Ok, if I would tell you everthink in Detail, it would take hours. So here is a shorter vision:

In her first few years, Samantha was very shy and don´t know how to act or interact with people at her age. She starts her adventure  with the cursed vaults, found Hints about what happend to Jacob and was even able to find some friends! But on every Holiday, she had to went back to her adopted mothers house (or hell, there was no big different). 

In the end of the 3rd Year, Bill Weasley and a other Sutdent beomce suspicious and call Samanthas Dad. Matthew showed up at Hogwarts. After a awful Situation, the Turth came out and Samanthas father Matthew was able to get the custody back. Samantha talks never again with Angela and it´s unknown what happend to her (just the Fact, that Samanthas Aunt Hel, trys to kill her, but she was stopped by Matthew).

Since that Day Samantha lived with her family again. And after a few Starting difficulties, she and her fahter had a really good realtionship! The 3rd Year is also the Year where it came out, that Samantha is a half-Vampire (before that, she covered her ears with a spell)

Hogwarts Year 4-7:

At the beginning of the 4th year, everyone could see how much Samantha changed. She become more open, more self confident and simple - more happy. This also the Year where she become friend with the most other MC´s :D and of cause - Charlie Weasley. in which she also fell in love. It wasn´t love at the first sight, but Samantha realise her feelings after Charlie tells her, she is not a princess or a  a tender flower, she is more like a Dragon. Ready to fight with much Power. In the Winter (Yule Ball) they become a couple, but they keep it a secret.

And she became the Seeker for the Ravenclaw Qudditch Team and a Perfect. 

Also the Adventure continued and Samatha and her friends finally found Jacob Roberts in the portrait vaults.  Rakepick betrayed the Friends and Jacob chased her without answering Samanthas questions. Samantha felt deceived.

At there next meeting, Samantha will punshed Jacob and for the first time in her life she tells someone how she felt without thinking.

After defeating “R” and the curse of the vaults, Samantha and her friends have one last enemey - the future. Samantha had simple no idea what she want to do after school. After talking with Tonks and Mad-Eye she decided to start training as an Auror. She knows Charlie wants to become a  Drakologe in Rumania. Also Samantha loves Dragons too, she also know that this wasn´t the right job for her. But maybe she would find a different Job in Rumania, after her Auror Training. Unfortunately both didn´t talk to each other fast enough. So Samantha thought Charlie didn´t want her in Rumania and Charlie thought Samantha dind´t want to come with him. They break up, but promised to be still best friends (haha! the Dorks didn´t talk to each other for 4 years now because of there broken hearts).

After Hogwarts:

Samantha starte her Training as an Auror with Tonks and finished it with Bravura. She was finally able to control her Vampire side and using her Vampire skills. Maybe that´s the reason why THEY talk to her at her Graduation ceremony... After that conversation Samantha had no other choice but join.....

[END OF INFORMATION. THIS ARE SECRET INFORMATION.NO RELEASE. ]

But in the end, Samantha found her final happy end. If you already want to know more read this post about the MC-Future-Challenge. 

Relationship:

HP Character:

Rowan Khanna: Rowan was Samanthas first Friend. Like in the HPHM Game, they met at Diagon Alley. After her Dead, Samantha lose the first time her control about her Vampire side. After that Samantha and the others establish the circle of Khanna.

Ben Copper: In the first Years, Samantha and Ben were really closed firend. But after Bens Change, they lived apart. In the end there were just acquaintance.

Penny Haywood: Penny made it her personal mission to improve Samanthas self-confidence. It was Pennys Idea, that a Ponytail would suit Samantha well. There were good friends.

Bill Weasley: Bill become a borhter like friend. He is the only one how calls Samantha “Sammy” without making her angry.. They become really closed and Bill was one of the first SammyxChalire Shippers (one of the reasons why he always invited Samantha for Christmas)

Nymphadora Tonks: PRANK BUDDIES! Tonks and Tulip used Samanthas knowledge about physics for pranks. But Samantha has one rules “don´t make me catch you guys as a perfect! AND NO EVIDENCE!”

Tulip Karasu: Also a PRANK BUDDY! Tulip and Carewyn were the people how find out, that Samantha loves to sing. 

Barnaby Lee: I´m not sure, but i would say Barnaby had a little crush on Samantha once. There were on there first Date and he support her a lot. However, sometimes Charlie get a little jealous, when Samantha spend to much time with Barnaby.

Talbott Winger: Talbott is one of the people, how helped Samantha to become a Animagus. He try, but he can´t escape Samanthas Friendship. Especially both lost the mother and know how each other feels about that. He is the first one how know Samantha is a Half-Vampire.

Andre Egwu: Andre and Samantha are good friends. He always give her fashion especially (since Samantha has absolutly NO Fashion taste).

Charlie Weasley: What could I say? they love each other a lot and are also best friends. Charlie always think it´s absurd to call Samantha a Princess or weak. She is so powerful and had such a great fire inside. She is like a welish Green, but irish. On the other side, Samantha is maybe one of the few how never make jokes about his Dragon passion. Charlie is the only one how call her Sam, without making her angry. 

Jae Kim : Jae teach Samantha cooking basics. And he discovered her passion for Nougat chocolate. So Jae alway ofer Samantha chocolate, when he needs her notes or someone for Private tutoring

Badeea Ali : Badeea trys to teach samantha how to draw, but Sammy has simple no talent.They like each other, but you can´t say there are closed friends.

Liz Tuttle :To be honest - Samantha don´t know what she should think about Liz. Samantha admit Liz passion for magical creatures and they can work together, but there aren´t really friends.

Diego Caplan : We all know Diego is a womenizer and he always flirts with Samantha (but she don´t understand the allusions). And after her identity as a half-vampire was realsed, Diego always wants a Duell, but he never win. :P

Fred + George Weasley : The twins became like little brothers for Samantha. There were never able to prank her. Samantha was the one how bring the idea of a own Joke article store to there mind. Samantha teached the twins the physics basics. As a Perfect she had a lot of work with this two!  

Cedric Diggory : Cedric admired Samantha form the very beginning and want to be one of her friend. I am not sure, but maybe he had a little crush on her or try to impress her.

Merula Synde : Rival-Friends just in the typical way you can imagen. They both drag each other to her limit. They would never admit it, but they respect each other.

Ismelda Murk : Ismelda is maybe the only student on Hogwarts which Samantha simple don´t like. Ismeldas talking about the Dark art and how cool the dark lord actually is, makes Samantha angry. They both had one than more duell.

Beatrice Haywood : While Beas edgy emo phase, Samantha understand how she feels and Bea knows that. When her relationship with Penny was the worsed, Bea said she wished Samantha would be her sister. But Samantha know, this was just to hurt Penny, so she never takes this serious. 

Percy Weasley : Like Cedric, Pery admired Samantha. Especially as a Perfect. It take a long time since he realise how much Trouble Samantha makes XD

Chiara Lobosca : Chiara is a high morally support for Samantha. They both has some kind of “We are monster”-Friendships.

Cherster Davies: The Ravenclaw Perfect has a hard time with the little Girl. He saw her potentional but cry for every point Ravenclaw lose because of Sam. (dosen´t matter how many points she earn before).

Sykpe Parkins: Samantha and Skype are Quidditch Partner, but not really friends. They had a excellent Teamplay. But they didn´t talk much outside the field.

Orion Amani: Samantha thinks Orion is funny. She likes his chilly style and he is a good listener. He is the first one how thinks Samantha would be a good seeker because of her inhuam ears.

Murphy McNelly: Murphy and Samantha are Puns buddys. They simple CAN´T have a normal conversation.

------------------- other characters--------------

Harry Potter : Of cause Samantha knows the story about the boy how lived. But she doesn´t had a lot to do with him. He is a friend of Ron and later Ginnys Man and Samantha likes that. She also likes his cheeky styl.

Ron and Ginny Weasley : Both are like siblies for her. Sometimes Ginny calls Samantha her big sis, which makes her really proud. Ron thinks that Samantha is really cool and can do everythink.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley: Both like Samantha a lot. She is always welcome. Athrus always aks her about muggle stuff and her fathers hospital. Mrs. Weasley had a time where she thought Samantha and Bill would be a great couple, but she is also very happy after Samantha and Charlies ends together.

Fleur Delacour : First Fleur thought Samantha would be also against her wedding with Bill. Fleur even thought Samantha could be in Love with Bill. But she relaise very fast Charlies and Samanthas feeling for each other. Before the wedding Fleur and Samantha becomes good friends. (also because Samantha was never agains this relationship and always think Fleur is a badass, which she likes.)

Canon MC´Friends

So, this is important again XD. Long Time ago, I ask how wants to be Samanthas friend and sometimes they already interact with each others. So here is the list. 

NOTE!: If you want your MC also be Samantas Friend and in my Comic, just say it! On the other hand - if you read your MC´s Name here and don´t want that or you are not happy with there relationship, just say somethink too! So lets go (why I am nervous???):

Glennis Augustine - belongs to @etoilesbonbon : A creative Gryffindor. Samantha meet Glennis in flying class and tries to help her. Later they become friends. They meet often in the Courtyard. Glennis is drawing and Samantha plays Guitar (Glennis could wish the songs for the right mood for her Drawing.

Dusty Emerald - belongs to @dusty-emerald-hphm : Dusty is a Slytherin Perfect. Samantha just randomly said she really likes Dustys styl and however they start talking and become friends. They both like swimming, so if the weather allowed it, they do swim races in the black sea and giggle after that. No matter how wins.

Aishwarya Mehra and Arjun Singh - belongs to @hogwarts9 : Samantha know there are Royals at Hogwarts which belongs to Gryffindor, but she didn´t know who and to be honest, she didn´t care about Royals and stuff. One day she sit for breakfast on the Gryffindor Table ( the clique dind´t really care about the house separation) Arjun and Aishwarya sit beside her and for one reason Samantha starts talking gaelic with a lot of gesture. And because Samantha is a clumpsy Idiot, she hits Arjuns Glass and poured the hole pumpkin juice over his clothes. She just realized later, that this two are the Royals. After that she waits the half day in front of the Gryffindore Common Room to apologize to both. So the three become friends and train together there magic (Duells and stuff).

Keira Jones - belongs to @hphm-brooke : will follow

Brooke Atkison  belongs to @hphm-brooke : will follow

Kai Williams  belongs to @hphm-brooke : will follow

Ryan Seacrest  belongs to @hphm-brooke : will follow

Niky Dona belongs to @nikyiscreepy: Niky, a hufflepuff. was near by losing control about her “Lilith” again and runs in the forbidden forest. Before she losing control completely, she heared a strange sound. “I-It that a guitar? In the Forest?” She follwoed the sound and she founds - Samantha! Sitting on the ground, humming and playing gutiar. They start talking and Samanthas music calms Niky down. This is the start of there friendship. To calm her down, Samantha would sing everywhere and at any time.

Kyril Vasiley - belongs @kyril-hphm : A Tsunlytherin young and shy Slytherin. First Kyril was just a quit Boy, how was near by Jae. One Day Samantha had a Duell with Ismelda again, and even Ismelda try to cheat Samantha wins. She thought no one saw her, but acutally Kyril was in a corner wachting. He takes all his courage and talk to Samantha. She realise that he is “just” a Tsundere and very shy, but she likes him and both become friends. Even Samantha puts him sometimes in uncomfortable situation, they trust each other and both know that the other one accept them the way they are.

Night Rhea - belongs to @nightrhea-hphm: Night is a joyful slytherin and a beater in the Qudditch team. So she and Samanther met the first time on the matchfield. First Samantha was a Chaser. After Samantha got some of Nights Hits and was still on her broomstick, Night was impressed and talk to Samantha after the match. One Day Night found out, that Samantha can play Violin too. She coudn´t understand why Samantha don´t want to play anymore And Samantha tells her the Story about her mother. Night persuaded Samantha to play a song for her and Samantha acutally plays an old irish song. So, when Night feels lonely Samantha plays on her violin.

Finn McGarry - belongs to @theguythatdraws: A Gryffindor with a scar over this face (and more). He maybe looks scary in the first place, but acually he is very kind. The first time he and Samantha interact with each other was because he heared Samantha swears in gaelic. And since he is also irish and speak gaelic, he talk to her. Both like weapons and fight without wands, so both sneak into the forbidden forest for training. And actually Samanthas Uncle Andrew likes Finn a lot, so when he is in Town he takes both to the three boomstick. Most visitis ends (to be honours EVERY Vistis) with a drunken Finn and a drunken Samantha talking gaelic and no one knows what they say.

Helene Adler - belongs to @heleneplays: A Badass Ravenclaw. One Day Helene catched Finn and Samantha while training in the forbidden forrest.... and she join it. Before that Helene and Samantha were mistaken sometimes because both are blond Ravenclaws (and Helene sometimes wear a ponytail). After they become friend, both make jokes about that or even confuse new students, how didn´t know them. And Helen really admired Samanthas Aunt Hel O´Connell.

Luna Silvermore - belongs to @lunasilvermorny: A tall Ravaneclaw Girl, how is a beater of the Qudditch Team. Of Cause Samantha saw Luna before in a few classes or on the Ravenclaw Table in the great hall, but Samantha was to shy to talk to her (even Samantha loves her Hair color!). And then both start playing Qudditch and one day Luna said she will protect Samantha on the match field no matter what. Don´t ask why, but this flip the switch in Samanthas Head and she starts talking like a waterfall (where she also said how much she loves Lunas changing hair color). After a few seconds of awful silence (where Sam thought about simple running away) Luna burst out laughing and they start talking normal. Samantha and some other girls found out about Lunas crush for Rath and the Hogwarts Wingwomen Club was born. Also both like to drink with each other. And when they are drunken, they had stupid ideas. Really stupid...It´s a wonder Hogsmead isn´t bruning down XD. And both like watching muggle TV with Alice.

Roger Lopez - belongs to @hphm-roger​: A kind Slyhterin. He likes macigal creator and sometimes he goes for a walk into the forbidden Forest. That where he met Samantha for the first time. Stucked....in a Tree. She had a bet with Finn and Luna how can climb the hightest tree. Samantha won, but was unable to climb down. Luna and Finn where supposed to get help but didn´t return atm. Roger start laughing and said Samantha reminds him of a cat. And this associationstay for the rest of there friendship. And of cause Samantha loves his different Hair colors and always want to touch it, if it change.

Elaiza Schuyler - belongs to @annabelle-tanaka-official​: Elaiza is a Ravenclaw girl and one of Samanthas first friend, since there share a room. Samatha is fascinated how many languages Elaiza speaks and even teach her some gaelic sentences. Since Elaiza is bad at flying class and Samantha at Herobolgy,both help each other with this subjects. Both like cooking, so sometimes they sneak into the kitchen and cook or bake something. 

Williamina Schneider  - belongs to @leamontee​ : A cute and cheerful Gryffindor Girl with a hard backstory. Willie was there when Samantha yelled at her father in the end of the 3rd year. It reminds her of her own story. After the summer holidays she and Samatha were in the same compartment in the Hogwarts express and they start talking. Willie thinks Samantha is brave and both wants to break the vaults curse, so they work a lot together.

Clara Iln - belongs to @lins-hogwarts-mystery​ : will follow

Lillian Baker - belongs to @thehogwartscursebakers (don´t know why, but i can´t tag her :( ): Lillian is one of the Ravenclaw Qudditch chaser. She met Samantha in her 2nd year, when both become part of the Quidditch team. And both met each other in the duell club, where there start to talk to each other. Both had no fashion sense, but both love shopping with Carewyn.

Stephanie - belongs to @hanihonii​ - will follow

Ryan, Cara, Sara and Conor O´Donnell belongs to @unfortunate-arrow​: Samantha and the O´Donnells don´t have an easy start. Samantha was mistakes as a O´Donnell and there a lot of people who were thinking the O´Donnells were half-vampires. So when they finally meet each other there were like “ STOP STEALING MY NAME!” Maybe they even had duells. But in the end they all realise, that this fight is stupid, and they all become friends. But they will still mistaken.

Alice Beaumont belongs to @mizutoyama​: Alice is a very closed friend and one of Samathas Roommate. Alice is one of the few person on this earth woh can wake Samantha up, whitout realse her morning beats. So Alice is the reason why Samantha is able to stand up in the morning and brush her hair. After Samantha returns to her father, Alice visit her sometimes in the holidays and they watch muggle TV with Luna. 

Wendy Gordon - belongs to @drinkyoursoupbitch​ : Wendy is one of the few people at Hogwarts how understand gaelic, since this Ravenclaw girl is scottish. Most of the Time Samantha speaks without irish dialect unless she talks to Wendy. There both are in the same arithmancy class, so both study a lot together or talk about Quidditch.

Tu Liang - belongs to @wangxianforever000​ : Tu is a Gryffindor Girl and definitely a chaotic Dou with Samantha. There are in the same Rune class, plays Qudditch and both are bad at posion. Tu meets Samantha in the great hall and thinking form the very beginning, Samantha is funny. Somehow (don´t ask why, no one knows), every time they want to rock, things will end up chaotic, Both are very protective, so they keep an eye on each other. Sometimes Samantha sit on Tus head as a Crow.

Flavio Ceccere - belongs @sirfluffig​: After Chester Davies left school if was on Flavio to take care about the ravenclaw house honour and keep an eys on Samantha.He is Samanthas best study buddy and they meet every week in the libary. Since Flavio loves coffee, Samantha want to try it too. But non of them know, that coffee works a lot on Vampires. So Samantha was the rest of the day like a Duracell Bunny. (Poor Flavio^^;). Samantha helps Flavio to relax time by time since he is always serious.

Carewyn Cormwell - belongs to @carewyncromwell​ : A Slytherin Perfect and definitely Samanthas mama-bear-friend. Both become friends after they realise how much they both love music and singing. Carewyn and Bill were the first one how had the theory, that Samantha and Charlie are more then friends. She and Tonks developed some kind of special sense which called Samantha “The Mama-Bear-Antenna”. Carewyn were always a morally support for Samantha, which saw Samantha cries. 

-----------------------------------------------------

Her Family

Claire O´Connell - Mother

coming soon

Song that descibes there relationship -  Celtic Woman - Tír na nÓg ft. Oonagh

Matthew O´Connell - Father

coming soon

Song that descibes there relationship - Celtic Women -  The New Ground / Isle Of Hope, Isle Of Tears

Andrew O´Connell - Uncle

coming soon

Song that descibes there relationship - Dropkick Murphys -  James Connelly

Helga O´Connell - Aunt (Profil link) 

Song that describes there relationship - Nightwish - Elán

Angela Roberts

Song that descibes there relationship - Linkin Part - Numb

Jacob “Jack” Roberts

Song that descibes there relationship -  Hoobastank - The Reason

[ptersparkers]

at the end of the day (chapter one)

summary: there are two gigantic mysteries in your life and one of them includes peter parker not seeming to like you. you can stand him not being your friend but being in the same friend group? that should be easy, right?

a/n: sO i have this idea for a story in my head and there will be some slow updates coming but i’m excited about this one and lets HOPE i finish it hA. also i don’t know if this is gonna be more than a few “chapters” so we’ll see when i do with part two and i’ll decide from there! 💖

warnings: some angst but it’s not too serious

editied by: @jinxes-and-hexes! (everyone say ‘thank you’ because we all know i make too many typos).

masterlist / taglist / series masterlist

Peter Parker did not like you.

The reason? You didn’t know. You joined Midtown Tech your sophomore year and became friends with Peter’s “group” during February of the second semester. It was now the start of your junior year and you still couldn’t figure out why Peter had always given you the cold shoulder.

At first, you rationalized that he wasn’t keen on meeting new people. You got that, really, because meeting people you don’t know can make for an awkward situation and make people anxious overall. But weeks flew by and even MJ warmed up to you but the ever so bubbly Peter Parker that Ned was always talking about was nowhere in sight.

He was never outwardly mean to you but it was the little things you noticed. Like when he would scoot further away from you in the cafeteria or not invite you to a small get together if he was the one planning, even when you were with him. It was when he avoided eye contact and asked MJ to switch seats with him so he wouldn’t have to sit next to you in the backseat of Betty’s car and it was when he ignored you whenever you talked about the high marks you got on your biochemistry final.

You think that those subtle gestures hurt more than him telling you he doesn’t like you.

You hadn’t really spoken to Peter, per se. In the beginning, you both were trying to make awkward small talk for the sake of making friends, but when you clicked with Ned, Peter gave up. You quit trying a little later and you were positive the rest of your friend group tried to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.

You were accustomed to people not telling you things, but you wish you weren’t. You learned from your mother that it was best not to pry if people didn’t want to tell you something. After all, you learned you should never ask about your father when she had threatened to pull you out of Midtown Tech if you asked her about him one more time.

So when Peter completely stopped talking to you unless necessary, you didn’t bother asking him why he didn’t like you.

Not that you weren’t intrigued by the reasoning behind it, if any at all, but you were in no place to ask him because you didn’t really know him and you had just met him that year. Talk about an awkward situation.

So you’d sit in the cafeteria and laugh at Ned’s Star Wars puns and peek over MJ’s shoulders when she’s reading or on her phone, and listen intently to Betty’s school gossip to distract yourself from looking at Peter. You felt so uncomfortable and awkward knowing one person in your friend group wasn’t making an effort to be your friend.

But you pulled through because you hadn’t managed to become close with other people like you had with this group and you weren’t about to let one bad seed ruin the bunch.

“I think I failed the Spanish quiz,” Ned said with a sigh.

“Oh, why’s that?” you asked.

“I tried to remember everything I studied but nothing worked. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” he said, groaning.

“I’m sure Anna wouldn’t mind tutoring you,” you suggested. “She helped MJ get pretty good test results.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Ned said dramatically as he gripped the straps of his backpack. “I gotta run to a doctor’s appointment. See you tomorrow?”

“See ya!” you said with a two-finger salute. You turned around in the opposite direction to walk home when you collided with Peter.

“O-Oh,” you said, regaining your balance. “Sorry Peter.”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly before walking away and ducking his head, not making eye contact with you once. You sighed, not expecting anything less but still disappointed in the outcome.

“He’s being weird,” MJ commented. “I think this is one mystery I can’t solve.”

“Great,” you said, exasperated. “You’re the most perceptive person I know and if you can’t figure out what’s wrong with Peter, no one can.”

“He’s been a bit strange, lately,” said MJ. “Disconnected, for sure. He leaves us a lot and backs out of plans last minute. Peter didn’t use to do that but after getting that Stark Internship, he’s been at Stark’s beck and will.”

“Oh, right, the internship,” you said. “Well, I wouldn’t know.”

“None of us would. He doesn’t talk about it and when he does, his job description seems to be all over the place. I mean, who fetches coffee and works with technology?” she asked rhetorically. “It’s whatever. Don’t take it too personally, okay?”

“It’s hard when he literally ignores me all the time,” you said, falling into step with MJ.

“The kid’s weird.”

“You guys are the same age.”

“I’m wise. Like, in my seventies, wise.”

“Touché,” you said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, MJ.”

***

You sat against the bed frame with a pillow propped up against your back, an iced coffee by your nightstand, and your computer on your lap. The bottom was warm after long use but you paid no attention as your eyes scanned the monitor. A digital copy of your birth certificate sat right in front of you with your mother’s name, your name, but no father listed. The blank space filled your thoughts with doubt and curiosity.

You didn’t know where to look. Being that your mother despised talking about your father, she gave you a copy of your birth certificate to prove that your father was a no-good person and she meant for that to be a reminder that you didn’t need to worry about him. But it fueled your interest even more.

You weren’t sure where you got your love for computer science from, but you were able to type on a keyboard at an early age. Add in a few extra classes during summertime at a community college, and you were good to go. Now, you were skilled enough to locate backdoor entrances to mainframes and encrypted hotlines in order to access data that wasn’t being shown to the public. Was it legal? Perhaps, perhaps not. It was still a gray area but you didn’t venture very far when you had accidentally gained access to Midtown’s security system and found out you could change student information from your computer at home, much like Ferris Bueller did when he lowered the amount of days he had been absent.

With this knowledge, you tried everything you could. Whether that be trying a family lineage website or hacking into your hospital medical records (to no avail), everything seemed to turn up empty and lead you down a path that was always cold.

You had considered asking the Avengers for help, but you didn’t know if they made house calls or responded to teenage girls who wanted to know who their father was. You didn’t think your conundrum, compared to what they dealt with, was that important.

So, you sighed and closed your laptop in frustration with yet another afternoon of relentless curiosity that led you nowhere. You sipped on your iced coffee from the metal straw before hearing a slurping sound and put the cup on the stand, telling yourself you’d take care of it later and decided to take a short nap, dreaming of two things: finding the identity of your father and finding out why Peter didn’t like you.

Across town, Peter and Ned were casually hanging out in Peter’s bedroom when Ned asked a question.

“How come you don’t like Y/N?”

Peter looked at him with surprise.

“W-What do you mean? Of course I like Y/N. She hangs out with us all the time.”

“Yeah, but you never talk to her,” he pointed out. “And when she tries to talk to you, you try to cut the conversation short or try to avoid her altogether. That’s weird, man.”

“I do not,” Peter said. Ned gave him a look. “I just don’t think we click.”

“How would you know that? You’ve never spent time with her alone and you don’t talk to her.”

“Call it a gut feeling,” he muttered.

“Peter, that’s really unfair to Y/N because you’re not giving her a chance to prove herself. You’re judging her without getting to know her.”

“Can we just drop it, Ned?” Peter pleaded. “You sound like MJ and I don’t need to be scolded today.”

Ned sighed, obviously torn between wanting to respect his best friend’s wishes, but also trying to put you in a good light because he genuinely cares for you. He was in the crossfire and in an awkward spot but he knew that he didn’t want to lose either of you any time soon.

“Maybe you should ask her to hang out.”

“Ned,” Peter said, more sternly this time.

“Okay, okay. No more Y/N talk, got it.”

There was an awkward minute of silence before Ned spoke up again.

“So, uh, how are things going with your Spider-Man gig?”

“Pretty good,” Peter said, his mood changing almost instantly. Ned was grateful that he was distracted with Spider-Man talk. “Mr. Stark’s upgrading my suit a little and he’s updating Karen, adding some defensive-combat skills. I don’t really know what that means but he said he’d show me this weekend.”

“Being an Avenger must be so cool.”

Peter became flustered. “I mean, it’s pretty cool.”

“Maybe I can meet Tony one day. What do you say?” Peter gave him a look. “One day,” he said nonchalantly. “Do you think Y/N likes the Avengers?”

“Ned,” Peter said sternly. “I don’t want to talk about Y/N right now, okay? If you really need to know, something about her rubs me the wrong way and until I can figure out why, it’s for the best.”

“Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Oh yeah,” said Peter, sarcastically. “Like she’s going to tell me. What if she tells me a lie?”

“You have a point,” he said. “Well, do I stop talking to her?”

Peter sighed. “Do what you want, man. All I’m saying is we can’t trust her.”

“Is this Peter or Spider-Man talking?”

“I don’t know,” Peter confessed. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I think you’re thinking way too deeply into this,” Ned began. “You’ve barely spoken to her and you’ve done nothing to figure out why you hate her so much.”

“I don’t hate her,” Peter replied.

“Well, it sure looks like it. I can see that she gets a little hurt when you don’t invite her to things and MJ and I have to cover for you and say we didn’t know you didn’t invite her.”

“What can I do, Ned?” Peter asked. “Everything in me is telling me not to trust her because she’s got some weird thing going on with her.”

“And you would know if you spent more time with her,” Ned suggested. “Look, I’m not asking you to become her best friend, but she’s been a part of our friend group since last semester and you’re giving her the cold shoulder.”

“It’s probably for a good reason.”

“No, you’re just being a dumb teenager, Peter.”

“So you don’t believe me?”

Ned shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what to believe. I’ve never doubted you and I’m not doubting you now, but you’re not giving Y/N the benefit of the doubt, and you’re making assumptions without even getting to know her. Even MJ likes her.”

“Okay, I guess you made a point. And yeah, if MJ liked her right off the bat then I guess that counts for something.” Ned smiled and held up his hand for a high-five.

“There you go! I’m sure Spider-Man will figure something out, but Peter Parker needs to be a good friend. She seems so defeated whenever you’re around because she knows you don’t like her.”

“I don’t not like her. I’m just…cautious.”

“You being cautious has never worked well for anyone,” Ned said, rolling his eyes. “But then again, neither has being reckless. Just stick in the gray area, okay? You can operate there.”

“Jesus, you even sound like Mr. Stark,” Peter said, rolling his eyes with a laugh.

“Wanna grab some sandwiches from Delmar’s? I’m kind of starving right now.”

“You read my mind.”

***

Taglist:

@kath94210 @sessi03 @olliekookie @edgyhargreeves @simonsbluee @meraki--me @sleep-i-ness @amourski @zaynjawy @captainlarsonn @katiemcrae @holyhellthatbook @madeismyname @bands-and-shietz @janndishstuff17 @janndishstuff17 @knightofreaders @rororo06 @unfortunateshelbyrt @princessizzy36 @psychicforest.

[lailannajacobs]

Empire of Angels | Part One

Pairing: Bucky x ofc!Amelie Novak

Summary: Amelie Novak moved from New York to Boston to escape a shitty ex and to get a killer story. She just didn’t realize she’d meant that literally. 

Warnings: none! 

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Technically this part has already been published under a different name, but it’s been seriously editied and changed with parts added so it’s quite different? Anyways, I’d love to know what you think! <3

Empire of Angels | Part One

“I need someone to go after ex-sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. You ever heard of him, Novak?”

Amelie nodded, but her boss Cary, kept going as if she hadn’t. Typical. It wasn’t like he took her any more seriously than an intern.

“He’s ex-military. Defected five years ago and has been working as a hitman ever since. I’m sure you must have heard of him. If the cops are right, then he’s to blame for over a dozen high profile kills since. I got a source telling me he’s in Boston, ‘bout to hit his next target. I want you to find him and get me killer story before anyone else even thinks about it. And before you say a thing, I know you’re a reporter, not a cop. But this could be huge for the Globe and I need someone on this.”

Like hell she would say anything. Cary was finally giving her a real story. When Amelie had moved - more precisely, run away - to Boston looking for a change, she hadn’t expected to get sidelined. She was a damned good reporter and everyone at the Times knew she was good at her job. So like hell she’d say a thing and ruin her chance at proving to her new employer that she was the best he had.

“Do you know who the intended target is?” She kept her voice clipped, professional like his favourite boys did.

Cary shook his head, “My source wouldn’t say. But I need to know you’re okay with this, Novak. He’s dangerous and cunning, practically a ghost. I don’t want you walking into this expecting peaches and roses like the rest of the stories you cover.”

Amelie almost mentioned that the reason all her other stories had been peaches and roses was because he wouldn’t let her cover anything hard hitting, but nodded instead, afraid to look anything other than absolutely capable.

“It’s no problem. This will be my number one priority. I won’t let you down,” She promised with conviction.

With a curt nod, he waved her out of the office, apparently satisfied. Amelie could barely contain her excitement, and purposefully slowed her walk toward the conference room door. Her curiosity got the best of her before she could walk out.

Glancing over her shoulder as nonchalantly as possible, she asked, “Why me?”

He kept his gaze on the papers he was now leafing through, “They told me when I hired you, that your biggest asset as a reporter is that you’re constantly being underestimated. I figured the best way to get to him was to send someone like you,” He paused and looked up at her, “Am I wrong?”

She shook her head.

“Didn’t think so. Now get to it, Novak. Somehow I doubt he’ll be here for long.”

Amelie left the conference room, unable to wipe the smile from her lips, ignoring the curious looks from her coworkers.

Staring at the computer screen, Amelie finally understood why Cary had sent her after such an important and dangerous story. The dozens of articles she had found on Barnes made it clear that this story Cary wanted her to cover wasn’t something he expected her to succeed at. He didn’t expect anyone to find Barnes at all and hadn’t been about to waste one of his better employees on a fruitless task. She didn’t care. Cary had finally given her a story worth covering and she was sure as hell going to get it done, even if her first thought had been that the police, FBI or even a PI would have been better suited for the job. There was no way she’d turn the job down now. Not when there was no way she could lose. If she got the story, she’d be bringing in one of the biggest stories the Globe had seen in years. If she failed, well, no one expected her to succeed anyways.

Her research on Barnes - otherwise known as the Winter Soldier - had led her to two conclusions. He was extremely dangerous, and he was extremely talented at what he did. And what he did, was take out criminals before anyone even knew that’s what they were. The hit would lead to an investigation, which would then lead to the exposure of skeletons no one knew were hiding in the deceased’s closet. His MO didn’t make any of his vigilante kills any less of a crime, it only meant that getting the story before anyone else would be huge for her and probably save a life in the process. All Amelie had to do was find the scumbag Barnes was targeting before her little hitman found him first.

Get a story, save a life, put an asshat in jail, get promoted. All in that order. That simple.

The problem - the biggest one at the moment - was that no one was able to figure out who Barnes’ next target would be before the body dropped. The deaths appeared random, but she knew it couldn’t be. Anyone who worked as meticulously as the Winter Soldier did had to have a process. Figuring it out would be the key to her success.

Amelie had reached out to other reporters across the country, including an old friend from the Times who had covered the deaths accredited to Barnes, but all anyone could say was that he was ghost.

So, the other major problem was finding him.

But that’s where she came in.

Finding people was something she had always been good at. Although she had never figured out how exactly, Amelie had an uncanny ability to be at the right place at the right time. Trusting that gut feeling had never steered her wrong in the past, and she wasn’t about to doubt it now. Any reporter could follow up on a lead and dig up dirt. But not every reporter had her instincts. Amelie had to believe that it was what was going to put her ahead of the dozen or so journalists who had gone up against the Winter Soldier in the past.

Her printer spat out a photo of the sergeant’s military ID, the most recent photograph she could find of him. She didn’t doubt he looked nothing like the picture. The cropped dark hair and clean-shaven face were probably long gone, and she had to assume that, like the security cameras unable to get a clear image of him, she wouldn’t recognize the man from the picture. The only saving grace was that she had never seen ocean coloured eyes so striking, even on a low quality, home printed scrap piece of paper. She figured she’d recognize them if - when - she met his gaze.

The military uniform and crooked grin seemed at odds with the infamous hitman she was hunting, but Amelie knew that dangerous men came in all shapes and sizes. The facts were that this man had killed almost a dozen high profile businessmen and politicians in the past five years and that each hit was in a largely public area, creating mass chaos, which was, if she had to guess, his escape route.

Scoping out Boston’s most popular public areas was where she would start. Tomorrow. She wouldn’t be able to find him running on half a muffin she’d had for supper and little to no sleep. Resting and getting her things in order was her priority. Tomorrow it would be the Winter Soldier.

* * * * *

Amelie wandered through Quincy Market among families decked out in Celtic’s green, ready for the night’s big game against the Raptors. The town square was alive with laughter and shouting, one of the last warm, autumn days brightening everyone’s mood. She let herself get stopped by tourists asking for directions, wandered into a coffee shop and popped into gift shops, looking to send her New York friends and family a little sign that she was adapting to just fine. No one had really understood her move from the New York Times to the Boston Globe, but then again, none of them had dated Brian for as long as she had. The only exception had wished her well and sent her off with an understanding smile. One of these trinkets was for them.

Every ball cap in sight caught her attention, though none hid incredible blue eyes under the lid. It was a gamble on her part to assume that he’d be wearing one, but the best way to get through a crowd, antsy for tonight’s game, was to blend in. And judging by the amount of ball caps in her five-foot radius alone, the odds were in her favour that she’d find him under one. Her instincts had gotten her this far. She wasn’t about to start doubting them during what was probably the most important story of her career.

Before she could decide where to wander to next, she was thrown to the ground, pain searing through her wrists. Where the hell that basketball had come from was beyond her, and she pushed herself back up, wincing as the assailant rolled away.

“I’m so sorry miss, are you all right?”

Amelie took in a deep breath and forced a cheery laugh, “I’m fine. Happens to the best of us. Let’s just hope none of that happens to our team tonight, right?”

The washed-out looking man in a stretched thin jersey picked up the ball and handed it back to his son. The man smiled, most likely pleased by her kind smile, cheery attitude and the fact that she wasn’t chewing his son out for his pathetic aim. They always were. Nice was usually seen as a weakness. Nice was never looked at twice. But underestimated and forgotten were some of the reason Amelie was able to do her job so well.

He finished with another apology and a slightly creepy wink before whisking his son away. She wanted to roll her eyes but kept her well practice act in place, keeping her gaze trained on them as they wandered through the crowd. That was when she spotted someone far more important behind them. The cap, which was what had immediately caught her attention, was a dumb choice on his part. The navy colour only brought out his eyes, which had made him that much easier to spot.

Amelie grinned.

It was time to pay her little hitman a visit.

She wove through the crowd with purpose, keeping an eye on her target. Stalking him wouldn’t do any good. She could do that later if need be. Right now, he was probably hyper aware of people trying to tail him, and less wary of people actually trying to talk to him. The latter was exactly what she planned on doing.

Amelie knew she shouldn’t have been feeling anything other than fear, but this was what she had come to Boston for. A fresh start and a killer story. All she could feel was the adrenaline coursing through her veins, her senses coming alive. It didn’t matter that she was tailing an accomplished hitman. She was damn good at her job. She could do this.

When she got close enough, she tapped on his shoulder, “Hi! I’m a reporter from the Globe’s sports section and we’re conducting a survey to see who’s watching the game tonight and where. Mind if I ask you a couple questions?”

He turned around, brows furrowed, and eyes narrowed as if surprised to have been spotted in the first place.

“No,” He answered gruffly, striding off.

Amelie hurried after him, “Technically no means you don’t mind!”

He kept walking.

“Please,” She begged, “I’m never going to be taken seriously if I can’t even get this silly task done. I, like, really, really, really want to be promoted to fashion. I’m sooo done with sports. Please, can you just answer this one tiny little question for me?”

He sighed, but thankfully stopped, “If you want to be taken seriously then lose the ditsy attitude.”

Rude.

“I’m asking you a question, not asking you to act like an as-” She cut herself off, cursing the slip in her act. She was better than that.

“That’s better,” He smirked, “You get one question.”

Amelie couldn’t roll her eyes at him, no matter how much she wanted to. The last thing she needed was an attitude that drew attention to herself or flagged her as threatening or even suspicious. He had asked her to drop the ditsy attitude, but that was the last thing she intended on doing. A cheery woman, somehow stuck doing an article for the sports section was exactly who she would be because that was the woman her hitman wouldn’t have a second thought about after they parted ways.

“If you’re watching the game tonight, are you watching at the Garden, at a bar, or at home?”

His face was the perfect image of boredom. Amelie couldn’t help but wonder if he practiced it in the mirror every morning.

“I see why you don’t want to keep asking these questions.”

“I’m glad you agree,” She answered dryly, unable to help herself.

He kept his blue eyes solely on her, which meant he wasn’t looking out for someone else. He obviously didn’t want to be here answering questions - the way he kept all his weight on his toes made Amelie think he was going to take off at any second - but he didn’t appear to be in a rush to get somewhere else either. Whoever his target was, he or she wasn’t here. Either that meant that her hitman had been fed false information or he was scouting a location rather than looking for a person in particular. Amelie had to bet on the former. It wasn’t much of a clue, but it was something.

“Let me guess,” She returned to the perky act, hoping she could get a solid answer out of him this time, “You seem like the kind of guy who would go to a bar to watch the game.”

He narrowed his eyes and her stomached knotted. This wasn’t how she wanted him to be looking at her. Amelie leaned even further into the act, widening her smile. She couldn’t slip up when she was so close to an answer.

He sighed. If he had been suspicious, he had quickly dismissed her as a threat, “Is that your way of trying to prove your journalistic instincts?”

“Is that your way of evading the question?” She countered.

“Maybe,” He smirked, a dangerous quirk of his mouth that sent her pulse racing, “How about you?”

“Maybe.”

Amelie held that piercing blue gaze, refusing to be the one to back down first. Arching a brow in a silent challenge, she waited with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yes,” He conceded, “I’ll be watching in a bar tonight.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you! See, was that so hard?”

He snorted and walked off without another word.

“Have a nice day!” He called after him with fake chipper, muttering asshole beneath her breath.

Barnes didn’t turn around - not that she expected him to - and she watched him go until he was out of sigh. Hopefully, she was already out of his mind.

The game didn’t start for another couple hours, which gave her time to figure out which bars were playing the game tonight. Amelie had been disappointed when he hadn’t said he’d be watching the game at the Garden. A stadium was a hell of a lot easier to canvas than all the bars in Boston. She couldn’t even be certain that he was telling the truth - odds were that he wasn’t. Fortunately, Amelie’s gut feeling told her the opposite. Rude hitman didn’t necessarily mean liar.

Another sigh escaped her lips, the adrenaline wearing off. It had been risky giving herself away, but she banked on the fact that not many people, especially someone to small compared to him, would knowingly approach a wanted hitman. She had incorporated as much truth into her lie to make it as credible as possible and just had to hope that he wouldn’t check up on her.

The thought should have scared her, but it didn’t. Barnes was nothing like the articles described him as, and quite frankly, the only adjectives she would have used to described him were grumpy and rude. The man she’d just met was nothing like the terror described in the other articles. She didn’t know if her reaction made her stupid or brave. Maybe it was neither considering that no-one else had actually gotten close to him.

Not wanting to tail him all afternoon and most likely alert him to her presence, she decided to go home and get some more research done. It wasn’t going to be easy trying to find him tonight, but Amelie had always considered herself as someone who was lucky. She could get Barnes, but she was also going to need a little luck on her side tonight. 

* * * * *

Amelie had tried five different bars before finally finding him in a pub known for its connection with the Irish Mob. Her feet were sore, someone had spilt a drink on her lap at bar number two when the Celtics had scored, and it had taken an extra fifty just to convince the bouncer to let her in, but it was worth it.

She’d found him.

Finally.

The whole process of trying to find him had taken up so much of her energy that she’d forgotten to actually plan what she wanted to do when he found him. Not wanting to do something stupid, she did nothing. She’d somehow found a seat at the bar, despite the packed Friday night crowd, close enough so that she could see him but far enough away not to attract any unwanted attention. The pub was just as noisy as every other place she’d been at, drunken cheers and insults being shouted at the televisions sporadically. Amelie ordered another beer, still not sure what to do. Without a gut feeling to tell her what to do, she sipped away, keeping tabs on him from time to time. That was, until he wasn’t there anymore.

Cursing herself for being so sloppy, she downed the beer and pushed off the seat, only to run into a broad chest in a red henley and a dark leather jacket. She didn’t have to tilt her head back to know she was face to face - face to chest? - with the exact mad she was looking for. His narrowed eyes probably meant that their running into each other wasn’t accidental or a good thing.

She smiled.

He dipped his head, breath hot on her ear when he growled, “Sit down.”

Her eyes widened in the nonexistent fear she should have felt and followed his order while he slid into the free seat on her right. Barnes ordered a drink, not saying anything as they waited for the barman to come back with his beer. He probably hoped to ramp up her supposed fear by letting her stew, but it only succeeded in giving her time to think of a way out without killing her chance at getting this story. She had to give him credit though. She figured most people would have been afraid. But he had no idea that she wasn’t most people.  

“Who are you?” He demanded after the bartender had moved on.

“Oh! Right! You didn’t get my name earlier. I promise I’m not stalking you or anything, it’s purely personal,” Amelie could tell the sweetness in her voice had thrown him off guard, so she continued, laying it on even thicker, “It’s not every day I get to interview someone so… handsome, you know. I just thought that if I can into you tonight then-”

“Who are you?” He repeated, cutting her off with a cold look.

Obviously, manners weren’t his thing.

She forced a giggle even if it was getting harder to keep up the charade. What she wanted to do was shake him and tell him that manners were for everyone, including international hitmen, but she looked away for a second as if embarrassed.

She extended her hand, “Amelie Novak.”

He looked at it as though it might bite him, but he summoned all of his dangerous, brooding bravery and took it, “I wasn’t expecting such a firm grip.”

She shot him a pointed look, filling in the unspoken words, “From someone so ditzy?”

Amelie couldn’t help it. His condescending attitude made it impossible not to want to answer in the same tone. She needed to get her act together. Now. In the last five years, she had never broken character on the job, and now, she had twice in the same day. She reminded herself what was on the line if she slipped up and shot him another smile.

He let out something that might have been a laugh, if hitmen did indeed laugh. Judging by the looks of him, it wasn’t something he did all that often. At least no in from of other people. Or ever.

He stood, “I’m flattered by your…interest, but I have to go. If you’re lucky, some overgrown frat boy will come in a take my place. Seems more your type anyway, sweetheart.”

Amelie smiled through gritted teeth, holding it in place until he was no longer looking at her.

“I tried that,” She muttered when he was too far to hear, thinking of Brian, “Didn’t work out.”

Ordering another drink, she followed him out with her eyes, waiting to see what he would do next. After having seen her twice in the same day, she couldn’t tail him. There was nothing left for her to do. Or at least, that’s what she thought before realizing that he was following someone else out of the bar; someone Amelie very much recognized. And if that man was her hitman’s target, then all she had to do was find that man’s dirty little secrets. Fast.

She pulled out her phone. There was only one person she could count on to get the kind of information she needed and who could get it to her before the night was over.

* * * * *

“What do you got for me?” Amelie perched on the corner of Detective Sam Wilson’s desk and flicked the Paul Pierce bobble head.

He barely spared her a glance, focused on the document on his computer screen, “Nice to see you too, Novak.”

She sighed, “Come on, Wilson, you know I’m not one for pleasantries.”

“You were when we first met,” He pointed out, typing away.

“That was when I thought I could get something from you that way,” She grinned, “Turns out you were a lot less gullible than I thought.”

He pushed back from his desk, chair rolling far enough that he could extend his legs, “I should’ve encouraged manners. A simple how are you would have been nice.”

“Fine, fine,” She rolled her eyes, “How are you, Wilson? How was your day?”

“I’m fine, Novak,” He smirked, “How are you?”

“Hoping to be better once I hear what you’ve got.”

He crossed his arms, “What made you start looking into this guy anyways?”

There was no need to tell him that she’d just gone toe to toe with an international hitman, so she simply said, “I got a hunch.”

He raised a brow, “A hunch, huh?”

“Yeah,” She nodded, knowing he was too good a cop for her to risk lying even more to him, “A hunch.”

“You should have been a detective, Novak,” He chuckled, “I think you missed your calling.”

She laughed, “I never could have passed those physical tests. But I’m assuming that you found something if you’re telling me this?”

He nodded, eyes bright.

She leaned forward, “What is it?”

“Oh, you know, police business.”

She nodded, “Of course, police business.”

“I’m going to the bathroom. My computer’s been having trouble lately and won’t seem to shut off,” He winked, standing, “You’ll be gone when I’m back.”

“Yup.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, Novak.”

“No problem, Wilson, I understand,” She grinned and whispered, “Thank you. I owe you. Next time I’ll come bearing coffee.”

He pulled back, “It better be one of those fancy coffees.”

“Obviously,” She hopped off his desk, watching him leave.

“With cinnamon,” He called over his shoulder.

Amelie bounced onto Sam’s chair and stared at the document he’d left open. Her excitement built as the words for her article began to string themselves together in her mind.

* * * * *

The article had gone viral. Hers. Amelie Novak’s. Cary, after having cursed her out for banging on his home door at midnight, actually smiled after reading it. It had managed to get enough press that even her friends in New York had heard about it. Thinking about it still made her giddy, even days later. God, she loved her job.

The man, a corrupt CEO working with the Irish Mob, had been placed in protective custody, despite his white-collar crimes. Putting him in jail was too dangerous, a prison too flimsy for a good hitman.

Amelie probably should have felt better about having saved a life, but it was hard to feel proud when the made she’d save was a grade A scumbag. Among other crimes, he’d stolen from hundreds of families in the area and hurt so many other people through his connections with the Mob and those were only the crimes Wilson had been able to dig up overnight. Since then, other crimes had surfaced and all her articles since then had been recaps of the cops’ investigation.

Fumbling with her keys, her grip slipped on her grocery bags and she scrambled to get into her apartment without dropping anything. The place was dark, the late evening light gone long before she had left the office and the city lights barely poking thought the cracks between the adjacent buildings.

The light switch was too high to reach with the weight of the five-pound sack of potatoes in one hand and the jug of milk in the other, so she wandered blindly into the kitchen of her new studio apartment.

“I’d have to say, I’m impressed.”

Amelie shrieked, almost dropping the bags again. Her heart pounding her chest as if it was begging her to leave, but she didn’t move or turn on the lights. She didn’t need to. Amelie recognized the voice.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, professional hitman, the Winter Soldier himself, was in her kitchen, and he was most definitely trespassing.

[nottheatretrash]

My Reaction to The Video

Here we go. Gods this unsettled me. I do not like Remus.

New side, they were right i was wrong

Poor roman!

The DUKE? WHAT

Why’s Patton green?

Deceit!

Look at the cool editiing

I’m feeling very unsettled right now but I love the green

Why are there two creativities??

He’s got eye make up like Virgil’s ooooo (dark side)

I ‘Mustache’ why? (I’m sorry)

oooh gross ears this is the darks side version of the stretchy arm

all the singing!

The Duke sounds so much like Roman

He’s scary

His little dance at the word forbidden I hate him already

Thomas agrees

THEORY TIME: Virgil is Logan’s dark counterpart, and etc remind me later

HIs laugh creeps me out

That theory about Virgil & Deceit being neutral sides who aren’t ‘good’ but also aren’t always bad is looking more attractive

and also explains why the fandom and character!thomas have trouble with them because obviously,we have trouble with grey areas

‘you thought those thoughts’ - yes virgil but that doesn’t mean he’s bad

I blame religion

IMPORTANT THING: Both Deceit and the Duke have tried to shut Logan up so they can succeed (Did Virgil do this? must check)

If a knife appeared in my hands, even if I was used to the sides shenanigans, I’d flip out. I’d have a panic attack right there. Why isn’t Virgil talking more?

Logan: ‘me wanting to be listened to’ ugh the implications

Yep, it’s religion. Teaching you that your thought equal your personality and you must be perfect in thought all the time

THAT FACE WIGGLE I HATE IT

The Dark Side version of Roman’s ‘get naked, everyone get naked?’

Logan coming through with the specific word choice!! Ugh so good!

Oh poor logan

Deodorant: i bet he got that one straight from tumblr

he’s already revealing his name?

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOU STOLE THAT NAME FROM REMY YOU STUPID B*TCH

Y’know when Logan said ‘belief doesn’t always translate to reality.’ well in this case the problem is that Thomas think that his beliefs are, and who was L talking about the first time: DECEIT

HE HASN”T SKIPPED THE CALLBACK YET THERE”S HOPE!!!!

The Duke gets scared when Logan talks, you can see it

There seems to be a ton of animosity there

Logan and Roman have never gotten along

and Roman and the Duke are super connected

But Logan has NO reason to be nice 

and he certainly doesn’t like Duke

anyway I’m refusing to call the Duke by his name because I’m still in denial

‘Images of your naked aunt patty’ makes more sense now

Is it just me or did The Duke seem to sink to a deeper place than anyone else? 

Like, it’s a pit or something where everyone else just went down

‘Because I was one of them’

The Music Stop

And Thomas’ Face

I knew this was coming

But I’m still feeling betrayed

And he’s confused poor boy

How much it took Virgil to trust him with that

And he doesn’t say anything but just leaves

His face and that little shrug

Also was says a lot too

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 6, Number 2

Grisha Shakhnes

Time for another collection of short, sharp reviews, covering a gamut of styles. Our most tireless contributor, Bill Meyer, turned in a record eight Dusts this time, so if you like jazz, improv and experimental music, this is your edition. Other writers included Ray Garraty, Jennifer Kelly, Justin Cober-Lake, Tim Clarke and Ian Mathers.

Max B — House Money (Self-released)

Max B is doing 75 years in prison, yet before his bid he recorded a lot of music to be used by trusted collaborators. Last year’s Coke Wave 5 with French Montana felt authentic enough to be confused with Max’s pre-prison mixtapes, only a bit more polished. This new EP is no less wave-y and goofy, but too many guest verses dilute the fun. If French, with whom Max B recorded a lot of mixtapes together, seems like a natural collaborator, the rest of the guests are an uneasy fit. House Money is a Frankenstein-y affair exactly because Max himself wouldn’t invite them to his booth (not that they are lousy talents, they are just on a different frequency with Max B). It is probably mixed and produced by someone who thought that these collaborators would attract additional audience, yet the result is the opposite: Max B’s fans would feel alienated by impostors in his own domain.

Ray Garraty

 Jeb Bishop / Jaap Blonk / Weasel Walter / Damon Smith — JaJeWeDa (Balance Point Acoustics)

Pioneer Works Vol. 1 BPA 19 by JeJaWeDa (Jeb Bishop / Jaap Blonk / Weasel Walter / Damon Smith)

No matter how big the stage they occupy, it isn’t big enough for Jaap Blonk and Weasel Walter. Both men are masters of strategic exaggeration. Put them together and a clash is inevitable. Blonk not only spews sound poetry like a symphony of pan-lingual news broadcasts and surreptitiously recorded mouthwash experiments, he manipulates electronics with a video game controller that looks especially ridiculous in his gangly hands. Walter mugs and wallops, each movement lunging simultaneously at your ears and your funny bone. Perhaps you’re wondering, “isn’t this a record review? How will these visual descriptions clue me into the sound?” Play this record and you will know. And you will also marvel at the way bassist Damon Smith and trombonist Jeb Bishop balance the other half of the band’s nuttiness with seriousness so unfailing, you might put your money on them against Roscoe Mitchell in a game of poker.

Bill Meyer

 Ben Carey — Antimatter (Hospital Hill)

ANTIMATTER by Ben Carey

Sydney-based electronic musician Ben Carey played saxophone before he took on modular synthesizers. This may explain the quivering, palpable presence of the sounds he devises; he makes static pulse and shake like swollen lips engaged in the act of vocalizing. His deployments of attenuated tones, sudden swells, and insistent chimes are discontinuous and episodic, but also quite thoughtfully planned out. Both the sudden shifts and the long considerations of discrete elements feel as essential as the unforgettable bridge in a bubblegum cart hit, and the qualities of the sounds Carey ponders amply reward the attention required to follow their shifts in and out of audibility and back and forth across the stereo spectrum. If you’re inclined to get well acquainted with Antimatter, consider springing for the LP. Since both Carey and his label are situated in Australia, it might take some looking and spending, but Rashad Becker’s cut and the 45-rpm playing speed guarantee maximum presence.

Bill Meyer  

 John Chantler — Tomorrow Is Too Late (Room40)

Tomorrow Is Too Late by John Chantler

From the pig’s ass on the sleeve to the titles of the album’s two tracks, John Chantler’s Tomorrow is Too Late promises to deal with endings. But when you put the record on, you find yourself adrift in events that defy linear description, let alone the definition of a final point. Oh, sure, both of them end, but they don’t spend the time leading up to those terminations making sure that you know where they’re going. The title track was commissioned for the 2018 iteration of the French electronic music institution INA GRM’s Présences Électronique festival, and most of its sounds were obtained from a François Coupigny synthesizer that is over 50 years old. Rare earl synths are like worlds unto themselves, and the listener is adrift with Chantler as he invites sounds to converge, dispel, and recongregate in winking, restless masses. On “We’re Always at the End,” the electronic sound convergence make way for a pipe organ, which coheres into a solid sonic presence, but when it disappears, the piece does not. This is music to inhabit, over and over again.

Bill Meyer 

 Richard Dawson — 2020 (Weird World)

2020 by Richard Dawson

This sixth full-length from cult songwriter Richard Dawson unspools like a series of linked short stories, the characters sharing a blighted, latter-day English backdrop and perhaps avoiding one another’s eyes as they pass on the streets. Sung in Dawson’s wavery tenor — with flights up into a very uncertain falsetto — and backed with the most straightforward of rock-ish instrumental arrangements, the songs flourish in their specificity. The metal-riffing “Jogging,” for instance, tells the story of a mid-life crisis with startling exact-ness, an ex-school counselor, laid off and too anxious to leave the house, advised by a doctor to take up jogging. The story is told first person, in the most straightforward way possible, with minimal embellishments. If it weren’t for the crashing guitar chords, the squiggly lines of synth, you might be listening to a friend over coffee.  The scenarios are mostly dreary, of people stuck in soul-sucking jobs, in towns where things go wrong through neglect and inertia. Yet, once in a while the sun comes piercing through, and life, however stunted and bare and grey, turns ever so slightly hopeful. I’ll leave you with verse from lacerating “The Queen’s Head.”

“The guy from the vape shop Ferrying his chocolate labs Waves to us cheerily From a leaky kayak ‘I've lost everything apart from what counts’ Pointing to his dogs and then at his heart.”

Now that’s a pre-chorus.

Jennifer Kelly

 Frank Denyer — The Boundaries of Intimacy (Another Timbre)

On The Boundaries of Intimacy, composer Frank Denyer explores volume dropped to a soft level. The approach produces a sort of intimacy, nearly everything sounds hushed, although it remains unclear whether, as listeners, we're leaning into a confidant or cupping our hand to a wall to eavesdrop. Regardless of our position as listeners, Denyer continues his work with unpredictable instrumentation, highlighting sneh and koto playing in various places (including two version of a koto piece), and combining flute and electronics for a strange tonal study called “Beyond the Boundaries of Intimacy.” When he works with a more traditional set of instruments, as on “String Quartet,” the ostensibly comfortable sounds become unfamiliar, an experienced aided by Denyer's play with dynamics, turning from a crescendo to a near disappearance. Denyer presents those sorts of challenges across these pieces (written over the past 40 years). He requires attentive, patient listening, but rewards it with unsettling experiences.

Justin Cober-Lake

 Avram Fefer Quartet—Testament (Clean Feed)

This record is credited to the Avram Fefer Quartet, and it’s true that the Brooklyn-based alto and tenor saxophone wrote the tunes and leads the band. But he’s not necessarily the guy you will listen to every time that you play it. Not that there’s anything wrong with Fefer’s playing, which combines Sonny Rollins’ muscularity with an affinity for bold melodies rooted equally in soul jazz and West African pop music. He’s got ideas, emotion and chops to spare. But damn, what a band! Fefer and bassist Eric Revis have an association going back to the 1990s; no matter which way the music rolls, the foundation is solid. Drummer Chad Taylor is a regular member of a trio with Fefer and Revis which made a couple records a decade or so back, and he’s also a member of bands led by Revis and guitarist Marc Ribot. Taylor never misses a chance to turn the music up a little closer to a boil, and the blues-rooted tone that Ribot favors here adds steely sentiment to the blues, mass to the Afrobeat repetitions, and confident complexity to the free interludes in this music. So, if your attention wavers from the saxophone for a second, it’s probably because you’re listening to how one of his accompanists is playing off of another one. Wotta band!

Bill Meyer  

  Roc Marciano — Marcielago (Self-released)

In “Saw” Roc Marciano says, “Sometimes I pinch myself in disbelief,” referring to a level of fame he’s achieved after 20 years in the rap game. The listeners are pinching themselves as well, but for a different reason: Marciano doesn’t repeat himself. Roc Marci works with his lyrics on two levels: line by line as well as bar by bar. As defined by Marci, his songs are “poetry over beats.”Marcielago is a quieter effort, closer to Rosebudd’s Revenge 1 and 2, than to 2018’s KAOS and Behold a Dark Horse. To rephrase the poet himself, on Marcielago he’s more like a pimp than a mack. The standout here is “Ephesians” which starts with early electronica and then explodes into a full-scale attack. Marci’s long time collaborator Ka spits here a verse which does an impossible thing: Marciano is murdered on his own turf.

Ray Garraty

 Machtelinckx / Badenhorst / Cools / Gouband — Porous Structures (Aspen Edities)

porous structures by Machtelinckx/Badenhorst/Cools/Gouband

This quartet comprises two steel-stringed acoustic guitarists, one percussionist prone to placing stones on his drums, and one clarinet and a saxophone player who likes to sing. The album’s title implies permeability, and the music delivers by creating the impression of actions happen in different places at the same time. Ruben Machtelinckx and Bert Cools’ guitars create structures made of slow-moving, finger-picked patterns. Toma Gouband and Joachim Badenhorst often sound like they are playing in some resonant space outside of the guitars’ sanctuary, where their sounds can spread a halo of echo around and occasionally blow through the dry, close-miked string sounds. The former’s rattling rocks create more texture than motion; the latter’s distant croons and spare tones create a sense of distance. In their own quiet way, these musicians have arrived at a sound that can’t be mistaken for anyone else’s.

Bill Meyer

  Salim Nourallah — Jesus of Sad (Palo Santo)

The narrators of Salim Nourallah's songs don't often find things going so well. Nourallah's taken that point to its logical conclusion on new EP Jesus of Sad. Rather than indulging depressive tendencies, though, the songwriter brings his sense of humor for a parodic take. “So, you think you've suffered?” he sings to open the disc. “I sip the tears of the world from my coffee cup.” The hyperbole might immediately develops his exaggerated character. Accompanied by multi-instrumentalist Billy Harvey, Nourallah moves on to “Born with a Broken Heart,” a funky number owing something to Soul Coughing while providing one of the best bass lines in his catalog. The cut's full of wit while addressing serious questions about faith, gender equality, and more.  

“This Doesn't Feel like Peace, Love, or Understanding” (the second track here to echo a Nick Lowe title) sounds like quintessential Nourallah, with a pop-rock sound that would have fit on any of his last few records and a relatable sentiment conveyed in smart lyrics. Two versions of “Misanthrope” close out the disc. Nourallah co-wrote the song with Rhett Miller, but here he turns away from the Old 97's' bouncy version (called“She Hates Everyone”). Nourallah slows it down, building complex feelings; he can't fully enjoy his strange love now under his anxiety about the future. It closes the EP well, being yet more honest emotion that manages to misdirect and complicate things, the true heart covered by the knowing satire of “Jesus of Sad.”

Justin Cober-Lake

 Parashi—Tape From Oort Cloud (Sedimental/Skell)

When a record provokes images of a Captain Beefheart lyric turned inside out, you know its makers are on to something. The squelchy sounds that usher in “The Vanishing Coast,” which is the first of this LP’s four tracks, does not bring to mind synthesizers, even though that’s what Mike Griffin (that’s Mr. Parashi to you) probably used some time them. Nor does it bring to mind someone else’s record. Rather, I hear the words “slow and bulbous” as the music sinks slowly into its own swampy stealth. “Broadcast Failures” leaves even those alinear coordinates behind as it pings its way woozily into the depths. The titular malfunctions might be echoed calls which fail to distract the sonar-like main body of sound, or the squashed, distant carousel that follows. Or maybe it doesn’t. File this under best practice befuddlement, but be sure to tape a bookmark to the plastic outer sleeve to remind yourself of the necessity of playing it.

Bill Meyer 

Tom Redwood — The Glue (self released)

The Glue by Tom Redwood

With The Glue, his fourth album, Melbourne-based singer-songwriter Tom Redwood has tapped into a rewarding strain of country/folk that pulls hard on traditional roots, while adding a knowing wink, flowing performances, and plenty of tuneful song craft. As in Jim O’Rourke’s beloved series of Drag City albums, the music-making is taken seriously but is undercut by self-deprecating humor. On “Easy Love” Redwood sings, “When I was young I was easy loving / But now that I’m old, I’m not so dumb,” and on the title track he makes a playful reference to “round, gorgeous thighs.” He’s not afraid to play it straight, though, such as on the haunting “Cold Mother Night,” and reflective closer “Shut the Door.” There’s superb lap steel playing by Kier Stevens, smart counterpoint on guitar and “cheesy keys” from producer Matt Walker, and ethereal backing vocals from Rosie Luby, which contrasts nicely with Redwood’s aw-shucks delivery.

Tim Clarke

 Grisha Shakhnes — Being There (Unfathomless)

being there by grisha shakhnes

Being There presents the listener with a document of actor, action and the arena in which the former enacts the latter. Essentially, Grisha Shakhnes recorded himself recording and recorded the room in which he was recording. Sometimes a recording device filters the subjects of his inquiry on the way to the recorder; while the sounds were captured by a Zoom digital recorded, some of them went through a Rvox reel-to-reel tape deck along the way. Equipped with the knowledge that you’re hearing Shakhnes making recordings, you quickly find yourself making decisions about what sounds to follow, and then dealing with the consequences of the choices you made as your act of following draws you into the chain of events that made the album in the first place. You are present with Shakhnes, sharing in the creation of Being There.

Bill Meyer

 Six by Seven — Dream On (Cargo)

D R E A M . O N by six by seven

One of the great shoulda beens of 1990s British rock (on the other side of the Atlantic, it’s doubtful anyone not reading something like the NME at the time would have heard much of them), Six by Seven are also one of the few from that era to keep going in a way that’s not just repeating old glories. Now almost entirely just frontman Chris Olley (his son Charlie drums here, but otherwise it’s a solo show) you wouldn’t guess it from the massive, warmly analogue psychedelic/motorik drones and drifts here. Stylistically speaking, Olley can be a restless guy, never really revisiting the glory of Six by Seven’s first three albums (what you might call their classic period, and well worth checking out) but also covering an astonishing breadth during the years since. The recent Dream On is as good a place to dip into his stream of work as any, boasting three massive soundscapes (the best of which might be “And No One Knows Your Name” as well as briefer, dreamier song like “Hey Kid” and the title track. Both his muse and the demands of making music your day job keep Olley forever moving, though — even writing up this release was marked by the appearance of a double album-length Dream On 2, so anyone on Olley’s wavelength can expect a lot to keep up with.  

Ian Mathers

[slothcritic]

Dragon Ball Z Abridged - Episode 9 Review

Consistently funny. The weak points do not drag this episode down.

The Set Up begins with a great cold open. Piccolo is drop-dead unconscious on the ground, Gohan is desperately trying to wake him up, and Krillin is anxiously awaiting for Goku to show up. After all, he’s their friend who would never let them down right? Meanwhile... Goku is busy eating at Jadoshin's palace. Even as a departure from the original series, I like the idea that the two of them made up and are friends now. Jadoshin, however, has to remind Goku about the Saiyans. Goku then runs out in a panic.

[Title Sequence]

Piccolo isn't getting up and Nappa needs a new toy. He chooses Gohan seemingly at random from the two remaining, and floors him in one kick.

"Wooo! Not me!"

When Krillin isn't being the resident Milhouse, he's the rimshot comedian. The joy doesn't last for much longer though, as Gohan stays down.

Nappa is about to tear Krillin a new one, when the bald monk suddenly screams out that it's his turn. And for some glorious reason, this actually works on Nappa. This is some straight up Looney Tunes, "Duck Season, Fire!" type tomfoolery.

Vegeta does not handle Nappa's stupidity very well, and in his anger does a fourth wall break where he references a timestamp in the video. This is kind of clever and a bit of a break from the other fourth wall jokes that they've done so far, but I feel like it could lose its charm if it's done more than once. As for the timestamp itself, which is at 9:18 in the video... we'll get to that later.

Krillin decides to use the Destructo-Kienzan, and Vegeta shouts a warning to Nappa that it's a trick.

"But Vegeta... tricks are for kids."

The tense background music just completely stops here, but you can still hear the vibrations of the kienzan in the background. Great sound design. The long pause afterwards is also well timed, and Vegeta takes up the "fuck it, you wanna die, then die." mentality with Nappa. This skit is succinct, well paced and well editied.

Nappa receives a deep cut to the face for his troubles, as it just nearly takes his head off. Nappa laments his modeling career, and the scene cuts to a photoshopped rendition of Nappa on Vogue magazine. The bald, beautiful Saiyan, and his 10 tips on being a better lover!

This might have been a joke before its time, or perhaps the intention was different while writing this in 2009, but Nappa shows us all what a "nice guy" he was trying to be during all of this, and now decides "okay, full ultra-violence it is!" and fades Krillin with a white sparkly angel dust attack. I'm sure it has an actual cool sounding name (Like "Galaxy Breaker" or something) but I'm going to keep calling it the white sparkly angel dust attack. The owned counter ticks up to 8 here, but it doesn't feel deserved.

Piccolo jumps up with an "I'm back" and shoots Nappa... in the back. He sees what you did there. Just as Piccolo and Nappa are about to throw down, Gohan appears out of nowhere and roundhouse kicks him through a boulder. More indication that Gohan has some incredible hidden power inside of him. This surprises Piccolo, and Gohan is initially apologetic, but Piccolo begs for him to stay angry before Nappa just as quickly hops back to his feet.

It turns out Gohan hit Nappa so hard that he turned Italian. Seems a little out of left field, but why not. The "I'm a firing my laser" reference is perhaps the most dated thing I've seen since Episode 1. Would this even count as a meme? Wasn't "Firin Mah Laser" something that came out before the word meme even became popular as a way of describing internet fads, jokes, templates and trends? Back when Demotivational Posters and I Can Haz Cheeseburger ruled the internet? Truthfully, I loved this joke when it came out, but now all it does is remind me of the proto-internet days. And part of me feels weird for being nostalgic about that, because I just know someone in their 30's is going to read this and roll their eyes saying "Oh God, I'm getting old", in much the same way I'll feel horrified when people start to become nostalgic for Fortnite in the next 10 or 20 years.

Back to the episode, Piccolo's sacrifice happens right about here, and the scene does a good job of pointing out a plot contrivance in the source material. Piccolo could have just grabbed Gohan and moved out of the way. Though the scene plays up the amount of time Piccolo had to work with, there was still nothing stopping him from just grabbing him and chucking him like a bag of potatoes out of the way, even in the original. However, if Piccolo doesn't die, there's no real reason to go to Namek. What I think might be a more practical reason is that, this is a turning point for Piccolo as a character where he starts thinking emotionally. It's no real secret across both the canon and the abridged material that Piccolo is actually a pretty decent parent. So this right here is the idea of Piccolo more or less abandoning rational thought and considered only protecting Gohan. That contrasts a little with the ruthless, methodical, cunning, intelligent character he's been shown to be, just to throw that all away to save him, but the contrivance definitely becomes less egregious when you consider these factors.

However you want to address it, then end result is that Piccolo sacrifices himself to protect Gohan. In the original this is capped off with Piccolo comparing Gohan to his son, which is what Gohan begins to explain before Piccolo calls him a nerd. In this series however, Piccolo laments one final time:

"Why... didn't you... DODGE!!!"

Bleh. And with Piccolo's death, Kami is soon to follow. He explains the Namekian Dragon Balls to Mr Popo, and the long (very long) journey that must be undertook in order to revive everyone, but Mr Popo outright refuses and simply reminds Kami of the pecking order. Kami dies, and thus the Dragon Balls become inert.

Back at the battlefield, Vegeta was busy reading an issue of that very same Vogue magazine with Nappa on the cover and thus didn't see him kill Piccolo, like a mother three sangria's deep at her kid's soccer practice.

I've never much cared for Gohan's exasperated expletives in this or any scene in DBZA. This one in particular doesn't sit well with me simply because they went to the effort of being purposefully verbose but then still chose to use the word "condom" over "contraceptive" - A condom is made of latex, whereas a contraceptive is any kind of device at all that prevents pregnancy. As an example, some of the first contraceptives in history were made from linen and animal intestines, while the condom itself wasn't invented until 1855. Gohan specifically saying he's going to use Nappa's intestines as a condom serves the same purpose either way, but “contraceptive” would’ve been more technically accurate, in a bit of dialogue that is purposefully trying to be technically accurate. I wouldn't be picking on the semantics so much if that weren't the express purpose of this entire scene. Also it has more syllables and therefore sounds more smarterer.

Nappa gives this scene the backhand and the "bitch please" it deserves and we're done with that.

"Everyone important to you is dead." "Hey I'm still alive--" "EVERYONE important." "...Damn it."

See, this is where the Krillin Owned count should have gone up.

After Nappa doesn't smash, Goku appears on the battlefield. His reaction to showing up too late and everyone being dead is uncharacteristically deadpan, and it's hilarious. He asks where Chiaotzu is, and Krillin gives him the Achmed the Dead Terrorist explanation. Over there, over there, and up there. I'm not actually sure if this episode predates Jeff Dunham or not, but I enjoy both, both used the same joke at least once, and both make me laugh so I'm drawing the comparison anyways.

Goku asks why everyone is dead and Nappa immediately and without hesitation calls dibs. This leads into one of most famous and iconic scenes, if only for meme reasons, in all of DBZ.

"Vegeta, what does the scouter say about his power level?" "It's... 1006." "Wha-- Really?" "Yeah. Kick his ass, Nappa!"

Not gonna lie, this genuinely made me burst into laughter the first time I saw it. I don't know if it was just shock value or what, but it doesn't have the same effect now that I know it's coming every time I rewatch this episode. I just love the idea of the scouter being upside-down and Vegeta not questioning it. An even better headcanon is that the scouter was never upside-down, Vegeta was just getting tired of Nappa's bullshit and just decided to send him into an ass-kicking anyways.

We're treated to a solid 15 seconds of Nappa getting completely curbstomped while the various characters look on in shock and awe, until Nappa gets dumped at Vegeta's feet.

It's also here that Vegeta finally learns that Piccolo's life is directly intertwined with the Dragon Balls. I believe this was already established in the original series, but no such conversation ever occurred here. Vegeta has quite simply lost his chance at immortality and it’s all because of Nappa.

I actually wonder how an immortal Saiyan would work. They receive a Zenkai boost, which makes them stronger when they almost die, but if you can't ever die, you can't ever “almost” die either, so you wouldn't get the Zenkai boost and your power wouldn't increase that way. Then again, most expectations of logic or consistency within Dragon Ball are pretty much always doomed.

Speaking of doomed, remember that timestamp at 9:18 that Vegeta referenced earlier? Because Vegeta certainly does, and with both the camel’s and Nappa's back having officially been broken, Nappa is sent to the shadow realm in a blinding flash of light and a massive explosion.

Vegeta's smirk is all we needed to close out this episode. There is no stinger.

Conclusion

Really good episode, actually. I wouldn't consider it as strong as Episode 7, but it definitely holds the same energy throughout. There are more high quality comedic moments in this episode than I could count on both hands. At worst some of the dialogue was uninteresting, pointless or overproduced, but the average pace of this episode rests rather highly compared to its valleys.

Microphone quality and sound mixing on some pieces of dialogue is still meh. Krillin's first line in this episode peaks the audio or something similar, because it takes me out for a hot second just because it's so sudden and emphatic.

We also see a slight evolution in the dynamic between Vegeta and Nappa which keeps things fresh. This is becoming less of a deadpan snarker and over the top clown, treads more into the ticking time bomb territory which is great for slowly building tension, and not unjustly as it has a satisfying payoff.

Plot holes in the original are addressed and lampooned here, creative jokes such as the Vogue Nappa and “1006″ are present and accounted for, and on the whole there's a lot of very on the mark humor, and only some of it is overdone. The story for this episode also holds significant weight and momentum, and it all blends together quite well with an above-average script and some great visual and audio edits.

Score: 77

Passing Thoughts

"Riiiiiicola!" - Oh hey, it's this again.

"Oh and I totally killed that guy. Oh well, at least we still had fun getting here, right Vegeta? Vegeta? Remember the bug planet? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vegeta? Vege-- AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

[aroworlds]

Sorry that this isn't aro-related, and you have every right not to answer it because of that, but do you have any advice for getting over 'I suck at writing' days?

Oh, anon, you mean like every day ofmy life? Seriously, I’m an insecure, anxious, depressed, avoidant, perfectionisticcreative, so I’m operating in an eternal state of “I suck at writing”irrespective of reality–and the thing here is that reality is irrelevant.I have a full host of lying brain demons that are trying with enthusiasm tokeep me from writing!

My first recommendation is to tryand get your head into the best space you can. If it means medication ortherapy, pursue it as much as is possible. If there’s a diagnosis you’repondering, follow it up. Followers on this blog are seeing me as a person whodoes things, but that’s been a recent change: I’ve been able to publish storiesover the last nine months because I got a good psychiatrist and a medicationchange. Before that, I spent about eighteen months where it was all I could doto post the odd chapter or blog post, and before that I spent a yearposting nothing because I was having severe, disabling panic attacks over just randomblog posts. It’s taken me three and a half years to get from complete collapseto the me of today, and I’m still struggling to do so many things.

Most of us who deeply struggle withcreative output from anxiety or insecurity have reasons. Maybe we don’t yetrecognise our illnesses or history, or maybe we tell ourselves that they’re tooinsignificant to stifle us the way they do, but that’s another set of lies. Wehave reasons that are so strong they’re stopping us from creating, and themore we can name and acknowledge these reasons, the better off we’ll be. Get to know the lying demonsinside your brain if you’re not already acquainted with them, because they might be more severe than is normal. Mine were.

My second recommendation might lookdisheartening, so hold with me. Those lying brain demons aren’t going away. They will always make things difficult. Writing for me, in terms of belief andself-confidence, is never going to get easier enough that it feels easy.I can now force my arse to sit on that chair more often, but I don’t workwithout constant periodic panic attacks, avoidance behaviours and suicidalideation. I just don’t.

As creatives and as writers, we’re supposedto say profound things that come from our being vulnerable while hiding ourfears and uncertainties about it, and that impossible dichotomy silences us. Fearand insecurity and self-hate and anxiety as part of being creative is sonormal, anon, and it damages us that this normal thing is still sounvoiced. It’s not about making the demons go away, because they’re never goingto leave. Medication might soften their voices if they’re extremely loud, and therapy might make them alittle easier to work with, but they’re always going to be there, and that’s normal. This sounds soheartless, but once you look the lying brain demons in the eyes and acceptthat they’re not going anywhere, it’s so much easier to work despite them. Because this is a normal part of beingcreative.

The thing that has always kept megoing is a sense of why. In my writing course, I had everyonetelling me that I was so lucky (as an openly queer, trans person) because Iknew what I was writing and why. When I had teachers telling me there was noway they could remember my pronouns, I wasn’t feeling so lucky, but there isa real strength to marginalisation in the motivation it provides. Knowing I amautistic and aromantic has been amazing in terms of motivation, becauseI can look at the lack of media and see the need to fill that hole, however imperfectlyI might do it.

Every creative has something profoundto offer, every single one, and you’re all necessary to the creative canon weare building. I also know that all creativity is imperfect. But it is easier, speakingas a raging perfectionist, for me to accept my work as imperfect when Ican identify a strong need for its existence. I will tell someone else that isokay to create imperfectly, and I believe it without hesitation for anyone butme. My own creative worth is evaluated on a much crueller scale, though, so I latch onto the need. It will be better if I can learn to bekinder to myself, but in themeantime I am writing because I see a sense of my work’s worth that isoutside the binary of imperfect/perfect. This feels more honest to me than self-esteem-relatedreassurances that my lying brain demons file away as nonsense.

Anon, if you can, I’d try to answerthese questions:

What stories do I want to tell?

What genres do I enjoy writing orwish to write?

How often do I feel myself to beincluded in narrative?

How often do I feel myself to becentred and celebrated in narrative?

How often do I feel myself to beincluded, centred and/or celebrated in narratives of my chosen genres?

Which experiences/identities I wishto include in my stories?

Which experiences do I never see instories about my identities?

Which experiences do I wish to seewritten differently in stories about my identities?

Which kinds of characters do I wishto include in my stories?

Which kinds of characters do I neversee in stories about my identities?

Which kinds of characters do I wishto see written differently in stories about my identities?

Which experiences/identities do Ihave that I never see written together in the one character?

Which experiences/identities do Ihave that could be better written together in the one character?

How many times do I see multiplecharacters of my identities together in the same story?

How many times do I see storiesabout characters like me that are all about my identities?

How many times do I see storiesabout characters like me that are hardly about my identities?

How many times do I see storiesabout characters like me that are written by creators of thoseexperiences/identities?

What ideas do I have that I neversee in narratives about me?

What ideas do I have that I see innarratives about me that can be further pushed or explored?

This is about getting to know whoyou are, what you want to write, why you want to write and where your writingfits in the creative canon, so you too can go here’s the irrefutableevidence for why I must do this, as imperfect as my words are.

In terms of structuring how you goabout your writing and how you look at it, I do have a few tricks for that,too.

The first is routine or regularity. Setaside a certain time each day and make that your writing time. If you’re likeme and suck at routines, forcing yourself to write something each day stillworks. The more you write, the easier it is to write: discipline does slightly lessenthe hate and panic over time. It takes a long time to develop, but it does happen, even with a squirrellyautistic mind like mine. Additionally, writing begets writing in the same waycreativity begets creativity. The more you do of it, the more often it’llnaturally flow for you, and when the writing flows, when I’m in the zone, I’m so much less focused onjudging it. You can make the zonehappen more frequently by writing regularly.

If you only manage one sentence ortwo words, that still counts. You sat down, you thought about writing, you didsomething. This still builds the habit. Anythingcounts.

The second is giving yourself spaceto switch projects. I’m working on a hundred things at once, which has itsdrawbacks in getting things done, but the benefit is that if I think one storyis abominable, I move to another project. Blog post, another short storyor serial chapter, cover design in Photoshop, editing the novel I’ve beenworking on for five years, sewing. It’s better if it’s another writing orwriting-related piece, but any kind of creative activity works. Cook. Draw.Just take your hate away and make something else.

By shifting to another writingproject, I’m teaching my brain the habit of responding to hate and insecurityby writing anyway, but I’m working on something I’m regarding more positivelyas opposed to forcing myself to handle the piece that is stressing me. I’vealways been able to come back to the thing that triggered me later when I’ve workedon something else long enough to calm, collect and distract myself. Anycreative activity, though, still sets up a response of positive creation inresponse to hate, which forms a habit over time—and it becomes easier toredirect my thoughts away from my writingis terrible I don’t deserve to live to creative output.

Please know that thisis a long-term process. It’s taken me a few years to really get a handle onthis, and for a long time I was only able to manage non-writing creative thingsin response to hate cycles/triggers. But it has gotten me to a point where I can morereliably write, sometimes even on the work that triggered me, after my brain hasstarted digging a my writing is worthlessand why do I even bother hole.

The third is acknowledging all theways in which my work is supposed to be awful. For one, my older pieces are supposed to make me cringe, because thatmeans I’m learning and growing, so older pieces aren’t any useful metric of mycreative worth. For another, my firstdrafts are supposed to be awful. Following drafts are about taking thatnonsense and giving it meaning, but I’ve got to have something to work with,and so these are also not a metric of my creative worth. I respond much better tothis than “my writing isn’t terrible, actually” affirmations. Permission tosuck gives my brain demons less fuel for the fight.

Lastly, redrafting and editing canhelp, but I think this is a redirection best for when you’ve got a bit ofpractice in turning from self-hate to another expression of creativity, soconsider this a 102 level trick. If you’re too far into hating your work, redraftingand editing—which points out so many flaws—can make you hate your work evenmore. However, redrafting and editing, improving my work, can give mereassurance that I can take something that seems so awful in the first draftand make it more readable, that it doesn’t have to be perfect the first timearound. I can often come awayfeeling good about a piece that mildly provoked my hate for my work just by editing it. Thisis also another creative response to hate, too!

Anon, I wish I had a way to makethose lying brain demons go away, because everything I’ve said here is hard.I will stress, though, that your creativity is valuable, your words are needed,and things like punctuation or grammar or style or word-choice are not theworth of your storytelling. You don’t need to be polished and perfect to beloved by your audience. You’ve just got to tell a story that is as real to youas you can make it. Your message is what matters. Everything elseis irrelevant. Everything. Even if you can’t disbelieve your lying braindemons, like me, recognising them for what they are helps.

Lastly, I’ll say this: you’re goingto have days when the demons win. Those lying bastards will win, and they’llwin a lot more than is good for you. That’sokay. Sometimes we can try everything above and we still can’t work pastthe doubt and the hate. Sometimes we write one sentence and that’s it. Sometimes we surrender entirely,curl up in bed and watch a movie, because we’re human and that’s all we can do,and that’s okay. If you try again,the next day or the next week or even the next month, that’s all that matters. Yoda’sadvice might work for Luke, but when you can’t actually do, please just try: trying builds the habit.Trying and failing gets you further than not trying at all.

Permission to fail and permission tokeep trying is what keeps me going. It doesn’t move me as fast as I think Ishould be, but it does get words on thepage. And that’s the only thing that matters.

[illustratedbydae]

Harry Hook x fem!reader || Opposites

requested; harry hook x reader based on the song “ Tribulation ” by Matt Maeson.

Guys , I hope you do enjoy this ! It’s not editied ( I don’t really have the time) also from now and until the next week I’ll be in vacation and I won’t have time to write , so I’ll just post what I’ve already wrote !

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED !

master list

writing prompt list

• the master list might not be updated due to the fact I dont really have good WiFi while traveling !

-

Darling, can’t you see

I’m a broken man

With addictive tendencies

You can take a boy out of the isle, but you can’t take the isle out of him. Harry was living in Auradon for over one year now, but nothing really changed about him, except for the clothes he had to wear.

He was the only one out of his friends that didn’t give up on his wicked ways. Harry was still stealing, not paying for anything, always threatening people and occasionally hurt them, he was still himself.

Even so, (Y/N) still tried to change him, to help him be better, she thought it was her job as his girlfriend, but Harry would only get mad at her for always implying that he can change.

“ Why can’t ye just give up on the idea of me changing ?” Harry hissed, “ Ye saw who I was when I came and ye knew how broken I am, but ye still chose to be with me,”

“ I know Harry, but-”

“ Then don’t try to change me, love, this is who am I,” he said holding her hand,“ and you fell in love with the beast, not with the man you thought was behind it. ”

It wasn’t in (Y/N)’s gene to give up, if her mother would’ve gave up on her dream to have legs she wouldn’t have marry Eric, (Y/N)’s father, but only this time maybe she should let this go and just enjoy the time with her boyfriend.

-

And I think I love you

But I don’t ever think I can

Ever learn how to love just right

Harry was aware of the fact that he was in love with (Y/N). He knew how good she was , too good for her.

She was always kind and caring towards him, never making anything to annoy him on purpose. Harry didn’t know why she was still with him.

He even hurt her once, they were talking about their parents and the differences between them, when something inside Harry snapped.

“ Why would you say something like that about my father? At least he had one hell of an adventure as a life while your mother was basically a fish, ” Harry yelled, pushing (Y/N) away.

He didn’t realize how strong he was or how much did he push her, but the girl ended up on the floor, her head bumping into the end of the bed which caused her to groan in pain.

Harry froze, he just harmed the girl that loved him the most. The pirate could swear he saw blood dripping from (Y/N)’s head, but that wasn’t even the part the made his heart broke.

But when (Y/N)’s smiled warmly at him and said, “ Don’t worry, Harry, I’m fine, I promise,” that’s when his heart truly broke.

He was the one that hurt her, but she was the one trying to protect his feelings. Harry knew he didn’t deserve (Y/N).

He was too much of a mess, not knowing how to treat her right or how to show her love; all he knew was to cause pain and Harry didn’t want that for the beautiful princess that stood in front of him.

So run away from me

Run as far as your

Dark brown eyes can see

“ Look, (Y/N), I thought about it and we should break up,” Harry sighed

“ What? Why? Harry-”

“ I’m no good for you, (Y/N),” he said leaving.

“ That wasn’t your choice to make, Hook,” (Y/N) sobbed, “ You’re more than good for me,” she said even if she knew Harry couldn’t hear.

The truth was that Harry was afraid of the possibility of hurting her again. He knew he had a bad temper - he gets angry easily, he acts before he thinks , he says words he doesn’t mean.

It was hard for him to let her go, but Harry knew it had to be done.

(Y/N) didn’t agree; she loved the boy - no matter how he was, but after what he just said she started to run where her safe place was : the ocean.

Tears were falling from her eyes and her legs felt like if they were made out of jelly, but she couldn’t stop.

She ran until she was on a cliff, from there she jumped into the ocean, letting the cold water heal her broken heart or at least a small part of her.

Oh and I’m trying to crawl up

And burn just right

“ C'mon, Harry , you’ve been in there for hours, ” Uma complained , “ You have to get out, it was only a break up, you’ve been through worse. ”

“ Then why does it feel like I’ve lost my heart now?” Harry muttered.

He locked himself in the bathroom, not wanting to let anyone see in what state he was.

His eyeliner all over his face , his hair was a mess and his eyes were red from crying. He had never , ever , experienced such heartbreak coming from a break up.

If the earth would swallow him, he’d be finally at peace, but that didn’t happen. He only started to feel worse , remembering all the memories with the beautiful girl.

Oh and all the ways you won’t bend

Are the only ways I live my life

Harry was reckless, while (Y/N) was calculating her every action and decision.

(Y/N) was calm, Harry was wild.

Harry couldn’t give up his bad habits - stealing , threatening , hurting , insulting , breaking ; while these things were the ones (Y/N) despited the most.

He was everything she ever feared - but not even once since they’ve met (Y/N) said anything about it. On the other hand, she truly loved him for who he was even if Harry wasn’t aware.

They were opposites and opposites do attract.

I think I’m better on my own

But I’m so obsessed with you

When Harry got out of the bathroom he found (Y/N) waiting for him. The girl , still soaked wet from jumping into the ocean, ran to him and hugged Harry tightly.

“ I’m not giving up on us, on you, not now, not ever,” she smiled, “ you shouldn’t either.

[cjwritesfanfiction]

Bodies (Edited version)

Hey guys! You guys wanted an editied version so here it is! Enjoy!

Summary: Alex is a Hitman who gets stuck in a pickle. Luckily, he has plenty of tricks to live another day.

____________________________________________

The night was quiet and still, which was unusual for the city. Snow softly fell onto the rooftops and down at the people down below. Some of them were Christmas shopping, some were struggling to keep warm. If you asked the locals, they would tell you it was just one of those rare nights. A night of quietness, peace, and serenity. It was a night to enjoy the city and all its magic and wonder. However, none of them knew about the world that took place underground. Secret organizations fought for control of the city every day. Blood was shed, lives were taken, the war continued. Alex just wished he wasn't apart of it. But, money was money and Alex never had nearly enough, so he would do what it took to survive.

This was the reason  Alex sat on top of the rooftop on an abandoned warehouse across from New York’s famed Antonio's Bistro in the middle of December even though he could be warm in his apartment. Antonio’s Bistro was a restaurant at the very edge of the city, expensive, high profile, one of those places you had to call months ahead of time in order to get a seat. That was unless you belonged to Antonio himself. Antonio was one of the most feared and widely respected members of the mafia. For generations, Antonio’s family and Alex’s client’s family (who he couldn’t name due to the nature of the deal) have been fighting for control of New York’s underground. After Antonio’s gang of ruffians invaded Alex’s client's territory and murdered his men in cold blood, he had hired Alex to end the fued between the two gangs once and for all. All he had to do was wait for Antonio to come out. . .

It was cruel how long Antonio made Alex wait. It was like Antonio knew that Alex was sitting up on that roof top freezing his ass off. After twenty minutes, Alex set down his gun and shivered in place. His teeth chattered and he felt piercing pain reach his cheeks like needles poking into his skin. A wind came by and Alex swore rubbing his hands together. He didn't deserve this torture.

A couple hours later, Antonio finally started to make his way towards the door. Alex smirked and lined up his shot pulling his black stocking hat over his ears. New York City winters could kiss his ass. He hated every moment of this and just wanted it to be over. As the fat man walked out of the restaurant, Alex flexed his hand trying to get the feeling to return to his fingers. He should have brought gloves…  Alex put his hand on the trigger and smirked. No matter how many times he did this, it always felt like the first time. His fingers itched to pull the trigger, finish the job, and collect the hefty reward that came with the fat man taking his last breath. Alex loaded one bullet and aimed for the man’s head. It wouldn’t take more than one bullet. . . Alex was known to never miss. . .

Antonio smiled at the waitress in the restaurant and tipped his hat before stepping out of the restaurant. Alex smirked and placed his steady finger on the trigger preparing to pull it and take the final shot. He took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head. It was ritual, routine. If he didn't do this, his finger would be all too stiff and cause the bullet to stray off course. After many long years of hitting targets, Alex knew what needed to be done before the kill. Calm yourself, steady your grip, and wait for the perfect position. He was calm. He was steady.  All he needed was ten more yards, five more yard, three more yards. . .

Something whizzed by Alex’s head nearly taking off a couple of dark hairs on his head. Alex groaned and pulled down a ski mask to cover his face. He didn’t have time for this bullshit right now. He had a reward to collect for fuck’s sake!

“So, the little lion came back to play. Thought I told you not to come back here or I would blow your head off.” A voice laughed from across the building. Alex recognized it immediately, Antonio’s dog. Antonio’s dog was a hired hitman turned bodyguard that Antonio hired to protect him after he almost got offed by some amature. Alex didn’t know his name, nor had he seen his face, but he was smart enough to know Antonio’s dog was someone he didn’t want to tangle with. The man had an impeccable shot, almost as good as Alex’s. However, Alex had more creative ideas on how to get the job done.

Alex took a risk and stood up. The man on the other roof did the same and cocked a hip. Alex frowned feeling that stupid smirk burn through him and shatter his core. Sometimes, when he had a job in the country, he wished upon the stars that someone would pay him to kill that son of a bitch. Seems like the stars didn't ever have time for his wishes. The bastard never seemed to die no matter how bad Alex battered him up.

“Fuck off, I have a job to do and you’re getting in my way.” He growled pulling a pistol out of his holster and firing a warning shot at the man on the room. It nearly hit him, but instead zoomed past him hitting a beer bottle some homeless guy left there. The man only laughed. This wasn't the first warning shot he had ever shot at the man after all.

“And let you have all the fun? No way. I won’t get paid if the source of my income suddenly keels over.” The man took another shot at Alex, and Alex hid behind a metal air conditioning unit to avoid being hit. The man fired a couple more shots, but they hit the air conditioning unit and ricocheted off in random directions. A black car turned the corner into the next street. Alex swore under his breath. He didn't have time for these games. Alex waited until the man had to reload and ran out to grab his backpack, which contained all of his guns and ammunition.  He couldn’t let his target get away this time. The man reloaded quickly and  continued to fire at him. Alex weaved in and out in a zigzagging pattern to avoid being hit by the bullets. Once he grabbed his backpack, he dove to the ledge of the building where  there was a small wall to hide him. He grabbed a pistol from  his backpack and loaded it.  When he heard the man run out again, he poked his head up and shot the man.  The bullet barely grazed his arm but it was enough to make the man scream and stop firing long enough to Alex hop down the fire escape and run after the car. It was Friday night during rush hour. He wouldn’t get far!

The car turned into a vacant parking lot, and Alex followed it. He had dreamed about this moment. He dreamed of shooting the fat man and watching him fall to the ground. He dreamed of getting that reward money and putting his friend’s child through the best private school in New York. Philip was too smart. He needed this. Yes, Alex had waited  far too long for this moment and he wouldn’t let Antonio’s dog stop him. He stopped behind a concrete pillar for a moment to reload his pistol. He wouldn’t need the rifle anymore. It was far too loud for the enclosed space, plus he didn’t want his target to be blown into pieces. He smiled and aimed his gun slowly walking towards the car.

“Hands in the air!” He yelled and made his way towards the car.

Something was off. The people in the car could clearly see Alex. Alex could see them just fine. But, they didn’t scream, they didn’t yell for help, they didn’t try to run him over or beg for their life. No, these people just sat there in silence smirking at Alex. Why were they smirking? They were about to be killed for God’s sake! A gun was pressed to the back of Alex’s head and a familiar voice greeted him.

“Drop the gun.”  The dog said.

Alex gently lowered the gun to the floor and put his hands up. His heart was beating out of his chest. This whole thing had been a set up?! That was impossible! Alex had been so careful with his planning! So, cautious unless. . . The fight… A few days ago, Alex got into a fight with Burr, a double agent for his client and Antonio. Turns out Burr was playing both sides. After Alex called him out, he must have told Antonio about his little ploy.  Dammit! If he lived through this, he was going to fucking kill Burr. . .

“Now, take it easy.” Alex chuckled trying his best to sound confident. “You don’t want to do something you’ll regret.”

“You’re in no position to talk. We have you right where we want you.” The southern accented voice nearly purred into Alex’s ear. The gun lowered to his back, right in between his ribs.  “You’re mine, little lion.”

Alex smirked and quickly grabbed his arm twisting it back and disarming him. Turns out those stupid self defense classes came in handy after all. The gun fell to the ground and Alex kicked it over the edge of the parking complex to the street below. On instinct alone, Alex ran. His mission was always to survive another day, even it meant losing his target. The fat man in the car got out and pointed at Alex.

“Don’t just stand there idiot! After him! Don’t let him get away!” He slurred. The man on the ground groaned and chased after Alex. Alex did his best to lose him. He climbed up fire escapes, jumped to close buildings, and pushed through crowds to try to lose the man. But, the man was persistent. He was actually keeping up with Alex and gaining. Alex was starting to panic. What were they going to do to him when they caught him? Interrogate him? Torture him? Kill him?! Thoughts in Alex’s head raced as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. His paranoia was starting to get the best of him. Every inch the man got closer to him, Alex began to feel more and more fatigued.  

At one point, his thoughts caught up with him and he landed wrong causing his ankle to roll out of place. He screamed and fell to the ground. In an instant, the man was on top of him pinning him down except for one arm he didn't notice.

“Well, well, well what do we have here? Looks like God isn’t on your side today, darlin.” He purred pulling off Alex’s mask. Alex’s breath hitched as he saw the man’s eyes widen in disbelief.  

There was one rule of being a hitmans.  Don't let anyone see who you really are. People would stop at nothing to kill you. Your identity as a hitman  was your greatest blessing and worse curse. Antonio’s dog saw him… He could find Alex and hunt  him down!

“You’re-”

Alex didn’t let him finish. He punched  the man with his free arm. The dog  passed out on top of Alex. Alex shoved him off and used a chimney to hoist  himself up with a groan. Before the man came too, Alex limped away on his bad leg as quickly as he could.  Live another day, that was the way of the hitman. As long as he got away, he had a chance to live another day.    

[shanyakulasekara-mga2019mi4014]

Island blender magical things coming up guys

So there is this island in one of my very first scene where you can see it dooming into the island with the clouds and to make the island I looked online and found this tutorial where this man makes it in blende 2.8 and the island is like made from only the matirial and not any actual sculptures or anim sort of modeling

To start I started of with a plane and then. Scaled it on editi mode with ten times it’s siz and then subdieved it 100 times and then went onto object mode and then gave it the subdividing surface modifier to really get the displacement detail and then changed it to about 2 and yeah okay so let’s get started and then we need to add a dosnplacment node and let’s plug that to the material out put and now for the height information which is basically the ups and downs that make it an island do for that let’s add a noise texture and for control let’s add a color ramp so I added it and then you have to connect the factor of the noise to the factor of the color ramp and hub connect the color ramp color to the height of the displacement node. Also just another thing to get the displacement to have reall displacement we need to goto the material settings and then goto settings in that and change the thingy that says bump only to displacement only and sooo you get this

Can you see the displacement already starting yayyy

Okay sooo now let’s making mountains so for that I should start by scaling it the displaclentnscale and your get this really milk vibration look

And to get a better version of this you just need to change the details in the noise texture and it will instantly look more like. Mountains and stones s then to create the idea of water I started of with the color ramp where when I change the black flag and put it towards the center it created this flat area and then change the mid level on the displacement to zero cause other wise it displaces downward. And then to get a better view of the displacement I have to like enable node wrangle addon on blender and then shift control click one a fresnel node so that it creates this matcap look and yeah right now this is what we have

Okay now to make it so that we can control the noise texture to get the island we want I would have to add a mapping node connected to a texture cordinates node and let’s start with the scale I went the islands to be much larger and todo soh I can goto my noise texture itself and increase its scale and then to find my perfect island I can goto my mapping node and change the x and y location to scan through to find the island I want and also let’s increase the height of my island. Okay so I went onto my color ramp and change it from liner to ease becuase the area where you meet the ocean the island has the abrupt fall off so to make that smoker u can just change it to ease and then your get there beautiful shapes yeay

Omg do you see how pretyyy daum this gonna look fine

And now for more of the colored part with the materials and texture involved to start of let’s take the color ramp I had made earlier and then duplicated it five times while keeping its link to the noise texture mapping node and the texture cordinates okay now let’s create a mask that separates the land from the sea and then we can just work on the ocean and the island separately. And now to do that I need to make a color mix rgb and then connect the cooor ramp into the top color and the fresnel node to the other and connect the mix rgb to s viewer node and then change the blend type on the color ramp to constant and move the black all the way back and then let’s start to move eht e white color on the ram to just color white on the island area and stop right bro the ocean meets the land

Okay now that the ocean and the Island is separated I can start give the material for the island white the rocks and grass and all that. So let’s start by making a. Glossy shader and a mix shader and then add a principle bsdf node and this allows us to have the principle bsdf node to have all the island stuf and the glossy to have the ocean stuff and that’s done by connecting the color ramp node to the mix shaders factor and let’s get rid of the the fresnel node or the mix rbg node and now we can just work on the island and that consist of texture

And now let’s drag this cliff rock texture so I got all these textures from cg textures and the normal maps and the reflection maps and all that come from these same textures soo let’s start by adding my vlog rock texture to my principle bsdf nodes color and then add the roughness mapp and add that into the roughness of the principle bsdf and finale fornthis texture let’s add the normal map and after I add it to make it work I need to add it though a normal map node and then plug those in and now add the mapping node and a texture cordinates node to the main color of the cliff Rock texture we add and then plug them to the vector of All three textures which is the normal an the roughness and then to make it more realistic I need to change the scale of the texture and to do so I just have to increase the x and y scale to about 25 from the scale of one so joe it’s 25 times bigger okay so as we know the island we are makings a island with vegetationnajdbto do soh I just have to add a moss like texture and try to stimulate the grass and trees and sooo I added the moss texture and learnt that to add the texture we need to use. A mix rbg node and put that invetween the earlier cliff rock textures and the principle bsdf and the I did that to all three of the textures from the color to the roughness to the normal and then I added the roughness and then normal map for the moss texture oh and like I am keeping the same mapping node for all the texture so that they all look even and at the tight scale so after adding all the moss textures the roughness the normals and the color I plugged them all into the mix rbg nodes other slot and now we jeee to seeprate the moss from the cliff texture and todo so I started of by adding a geometry node and then adding a normal node and the plugging that node to the color ramp and after adding the color ramp to a viewer node I can now see what the mask is so basically this works with the geometry to create these very specific spots for it to land on so rn it looks like this

So as you can see on the nodes there is this sphere on the normal node that’s the what in which you can move the mask around and to do that I just had to go to a top view cause in my case the camera zooms in from the top with the clouds and then get the mask just right and then i got that just right and the ocean i dint care thqt much because i was gonna put my own made using a Musgrave texture and a noise texture and yeah 

the island is currently at the right stage now i need the ocean and the clouds so for the ocean i went and 

thisis basically the nodes i used for the ocean its just a glosy with a displacement using a Musgrave texture connected to the  mapping node like it works okay i am just gonna put the clouds here and talk about it on a later post aso i made the clouds using the volume scatter and all that all over again in the scene from the top and then places them towards the same positions and ot looks like this wit a lowres on the clouds

and all i had to do was makie the camera move into this scene for about 3 seconds

[beatricethecat2]

if/then - 7

I've been fussing over the mechanics of the next few chapters for a while now, figuring out when and where to drop clues, as some pushback will happen in the upcoming arc. I apologize for the lack of Helena in this chapter, but she'll reappear, fully formed, in chapter 8. Also, I admit I know nothing about Italian, so I hope the little I've dotted into this isn't horribly wrong. This is still clunky, but I'd rather put it out and move forward than get stuck on form. (editied 8/18).

Previously: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

Read first if you are new! gutted/sorted and wax/wane…if/then is a continuation of those two.

//////////////////////

“Nothing so far is even remotely what Mrs. Frederic’s looking for.”

Myka’s annoyed, both at the man sitting in front of her and her clusterfuck of a morning, which began the minute she stepped foot in Italy.

“Scusa?” the man says as his overly smiley face droops beyond that of a practiced salesman.

“This is what I’m here to see.” Myka sets down her expresso then taps her tablet awake and slides the device across the table.

Myka stretches her neck as the man flicks through inventory then rubs the bridge of her nose in hopes of minimizing the headache she’s had since landing. Clearly, her lack of sleep is catching up with her, yet she doesn’t regret that promises of “later” were fulfilled, rather pleasantly, once her application was complete. Hence she downs the rest of her coffee and considers ordering another; if she has to wait while this guy compares their notes, she might as well be over-caffeinated.

She curses herself for believing him when he'd insisted everything was in order as she sees him now for what he is: a kid. His baby face hides under his short, sharp beard and his spotted bow tie and pocket square try a little too hard to be professional. He’s probably an intern recently promoted to sales, the only one free to meet her at such short notice.

She feels genuinely bad for Floriana, the woman she was meant to meet, as this morning her son was hit by a motorcycle on his way to school. He’s ok, they’ve learned recently, no broken bones or anything, but the painful reality of a child being hurt must be overwhelming. If that had been Christina—her heart races at the thought—Helena would be inconsolable; she’d hop on a plane and sneak into the country just to be by her side.

As she sips her empty expresso, she considers the fact she’s never worried over a child like that and imagines Helena’s day to day worry must be tenfold. She kind of checked out when she got to London, allowing work and Helena to envelop her; she assumed Christina’d be fine since responsible adults were there to care for her. She should really check in unprompted and send some photos, tonight from the hotel...

“Signora Bering,” the man says, “this is not what Signora Stukowski has given me.” He points to her tablet and hands over his.

As Myka flips through inventory, her nostrils flare: wrong period, wrong category, wrong everything. “When did you get this?”

“Questa mattina. You were in the air.” He points his eyes upward.

Myka breathes in a deep, cleansing breath and closes her eyes, telling herself to stay calm. Of course, Sally sent the wrong files, because if Sally could, she would. It’s happened before, and it's happening again. In fact, she’s beginning to think she does it on purpose just to trip her up. But this time around it doesn't make any sense. Sally needs this client to stay on Mrs. Frederic’s good side; Myka has the advantage of the private sale.

But it is possible Mrs. Frederic changed the roster last minute, while she was in the air. And while she’s checked her messages a million times, Sally's not the most communicative; she could have easily sent the files assuming Myka was already in the loop.

“Let me call Sally,” Myka says, whipping out her phone and scrolling through to her number. When the line goes straight to voicemail, she tries the front desk and learns the entire staff's in an impromptu meeting with Mrs. Frederic. No one's sure when it will end.

“Fortuna?” the man asks as Myka sets her phone on the table.

“No,” Myka says, shaking her head. She looks down at his tablet and flicks through a few pages. “Could we continue with these and see my list later?”

As he flips through Myka's images, the man's cheeks puff out comically as he slowly blows out a breath.

“I'll try Sally again later.”

“Si,” he says, nodding his head slowly as he stares at the device. “We can do."

“Grazie,” Myka says, with genuine apology: it’s not his fault they’ll be working overtime. “Let me buy you another coffee. And some lunch,” she adds, eyes wandering behind him, towards the counter.

The man looks over his shoulder and smiles at the menu on the wall. “Si, si, manga,” he says, “Let us ‘regroup,' Signora Bering.”

“Myka,” she says. “Call me, Myka."

------------------

As she stretches to her full-length on the bed, her muscles groan in relief, their release from gravity long overdue. She and Maritzo managed to view everything on both lists but didn’t finish until well after dinner. In the end, she's glad he was her guide and knows she's lucky he was young was eager to please.

Sally, when reached, confirmed Myka’s list was correct, but there was little apology in her apology over the confusion. If she had the energy, she’d have been angry, but she knew it wasn't worth her time. If this private sale works out, she most likely won’t be working with Sally any longer. In fact, Mrs. Frederic emailed her today, asking, tentatively, if she’d represent the gallery in the pre-sale showing, details to be discussed upon her arrival back in London.

The thought occurs to her she needs to go over her newest “anonymous source” email but admits to herself she’s wiped; it will have to wait until morning. She peels herself off the bed and showers, then texts Helena good night and is out like a light before Helena has a chance to respond.

-------------

Though they’ve met once before and emailed frequently, Myka's nerves surge as she enters Theodora’s gallery, as she’s learned Theodora’s not your average widowed retiree. Her anonymous source clued her into some history: back in the day, Theodora and her husband rubbed elbows with both Mrs. Frederic and James Macpherson, chasing down impossible finds like the one she’s been researching.

Theodora's space is intimate and classically European, boasting elaborate white moldings and intricate parquet floors. The front room is filled with contemporary sculpture she recognizes from Vanessa’s roster, while the back holds unique curated treasures. As she passes through to the office, she walks up to a lectern where an illuminated manuscript sits. It’s in pristine condition, which is unusual for its age, and she wonders where a self-proclaimed “humble gallerist” might stumble upon such a rare find.

She’s put at ease by Theodora’s warm welcome, and when their business is tied up sooner the expected, Theodora insists she stay for lunch. Myka’s flight isn’t until three, so gladly accepts and truthfully, she’d like to get to know Theodora better.

After a short walk down a picturesque cobblestone street, she's soon sipping wine in a charming outdoor cafe, listening intently as Theodora waxes poetic about the old days when she was partnered with Mrs. Frederic.

“What was she like back then?” Myka asks.

“The same as she is now,” Theodora answers and motions to the waiter for more wine. “Always pushing the envelope."

“I’ve only met her once. In her office. It was pretty formal.”

“I’ll tell you this: her intentions are always above board, but not everything goes to plan.” Theodora swirls the wine in her glass, studying it as it spins, then tilts her head back, downing the last swig.

“She likes you,” she says, pointing her newly empty glass at Myka.

“She does?”

“She wouldn’t have sent you here otherwise. And I’m sure she already has you working on something special.”

The waiter returns with a fresh bottle of wine and fills both glasses. Myka watches the liquid pour with reservations, already feeling tipsy.

“I think I even know what she’s got you on if the rumors are true. Henry and I chased it years ago, but never found hard proof it existed."

Myka opens her mouth to answer but hesitates; as a confidante of Mrs. Frederic, she should be able to tell Theodora what she’s researching, but it could be a test, to see what it would take to loosen her tongue.

“Oh, it’s hush-hush, I know, no need to fret. It’s just…”

Theodora stares at Myka as if sizing her up. Myka wonders if she wants to hear what she has to say.

“I seem to recall you have a daughter.”

“I, uh...." Not where Myka thought this conversation was going, but it's interesting she remembers her mentioning Christina. "Christina’s Helena’s daughter, not mine. Helena's my…girlfriend." Partner is the correct word here, and she knows it, but if Theodora knows what the private sale is for, she may very well know of Helena’s connection to Macpherson. It might be best to stay a step back until she learns where Theodora is going with this.

“Ah, yes. Now I remember,” Theodora says, siping her wine. “She’s in London because of a visa ’situation.' She and her daughter are why you’re doing all of this. Correct?”

Myka slides her hands off the table and clasps them together on her lap. How much does Theodora know beyond what she’s told her? Maybe she needs to be careful with what she says.

“Um...yeah.”

“Remember that, as you make decisions moving forward.”

“Remember what?”

“Your motivations.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

That very moment, their food arrives. Theodora thanks the waiter then turns her attentions back to Myka.

“Do you love her?” she says, pointing her fork at Myka before tucking into her meal.

“More than anything.”

“And her daughter?”

“Of course.”

“Then remember, the most important thing in life to nurture is family. Family's what’s left when everything else falls flat.”

“Why would everything fall flat?” If Theodora knows something about this sale or Helena that she doesn’t, she wants to know.

Theodora sets down her fork and straightens her posture, then dabs the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “Henry and I did what you’re doing for a lot of years. When we had our kids, it complicated things. We both wanted them, but neither of us was ready to settle down. So we compromised by taking turns, one of us staying with the kids while the other was in the field.”

Does she think Helena’s still working? She must know that’s impossible after the trial. “Do you regret not settling down?”

“I regret not spending more time with the kids and Henry together. Especially when they were little.”

Myka looks on, still confused.

“How old is Helena's Christina?"

“Eight. Eight and a half if you ask her in person.” Myka smiles at the memory of the day Christina told her about her birthday. They were filling out the calendar with Helena’s schedule, but the calendar only went through December, so she wrote out the months following on the last page.

“I know you’re just starting out, and you're excited about your projects, but let me give you a piece of advice. When you’re with Helena and Christina, try to live in the moment, take stock of what you have. It seems silly at your age; you always think they’ll be time later, then suddenly, there’s no time at all.”

Theodora’s gaze drifts off into the distance, and her eyes glass over. Myka reaches across the table and places her hand on top of Theodora’s.

“A-Are you ok?"

“I'm fine," Theodora says, with a small sniff. “When the melancholy kicks in, I tend to babble; another reason why I keep to myself these days.”

“You miss him.”

“Most days.”

Henry must linger in Theodora's memories like Helena's family does in hers.

“Thank you, for the advice. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll all be fine. I forget times have changed, with technology and all.”

Theodora slides her hand from underneath Myka’s and places it on top, then squeezes it slightly. Myka smiles at the gesture.

“I'll tell you, Irene only pushes those she deems worthy, but she’ll push until they break. Make sure you push back before that happens."

“I will,” Myka says, nodding as she slides her hand back across the table. She fingers the stem of her glass and takes a generous sip, wishing she felt more flattered than worried by Theodora’s words.

--------------

Her concentration’s a bust on the plane back to London; emails left unanswered as Theodora’s words swirl through her head.

Her warnings were overkill, weren’t they? As she said, she's just starting out, trying to fix what’s broken. If she looks at things logically, Helena rescued her in her time of need, and she’s returning the favor, though the stakes are higher now since they’re together. But four or five months of rocky coupledom does not add up to a family, per se, not in the sense Theodora was describing.

In fact, the word “family” leaves a sour taste in her mouth; she'd turned her nose up at the notion with Sam; having more important things to accomplish before settling down. She's aware the word is a trigger as babies and marriage were always Tracy’s domain; she’d roll her eyes when Tracy incessantly talked about both when they were teenagers. But as the oldest, she’d been expected to tie the knot first, expected to produce; luckily that bullet was dodged by Tracy taking the lead, lessening the pressure on her.

But “family” is the best word to describe Helena, Christina, and Claudia, and when applied to them it warms her heart. She’s proud to have joined them along their journey. She smiles at the memory of Christina’s drawing, scribbled in crayon, still hanging on the fridge, depicting her holding hands with Helena. Even at that early stage, she was welcomed with open arms into their fold.

And while she trails behind Claudia in the responsibility department, that dynamic will change when she, Helena and Christina live together. Once their situation stabilizes, everyone’s roles will shift towards the traditional. Is she really ready for that? She's not sure.

She’s been so focused on getting to London she hasn’t thought much about what happens after. Theodora must have seen glimmers of her own lack of vision in Myka, of starting a family but never fully embracing change. She should heed her advice and learn work with it, not fight against it. Easier said than done, but she vows to take Theodora’s words to heart.

--------------

After a quick stop to freshen up, Myka speeds off to her work mixer, coincidentally located at the same restaurant Helena had scrambled to get reservations earlier. This seemed odd to her, out of all the restaurants in London, but Helena assured her it was a popular choice with the “in" crowd.

The table is packed when she arrives, with a mass cheer rising as she approaches; it’s clear everyone’s been letting loose. When all eyes move behind her then forward to meet her own, she’s hit with a wave of awkwardness. Helena's expected to have tagged along tonight, but she's clearly not present.

She apologizes for Helena’s absence, explaining she didn’t know until she stepped off the plane Helena had to work last minute. Everyone’s been eager to meet her "black sheep” girlfriend since the day Helena met Mrs. Frederic and emerged unscathed. In fact, Helena’s reputation has even tinged Myka with an air of mystique around the office, which she thinks is quite amusing.

A coworker motions for her to sit next to them, saying they’ve saved her a seat and she does as instructed. Her heart sinks at the sight of Helena’s empty spot next to her; disappointed Helena chose to work over her. She knows sacrifices must be made to keep the weekend free for Christina and Claudia, but she was really looking forward to introducing Helena to the group, both to put an end to the rumors and to show Helena off.

Wine flows freely during every course of the meal, and as the table fills with stories and laughter, she leans back and takes stock, recognizing a lightness in her chest she hasn’t felt for ages. She’s having a really good time with these people, an even mix of folks older and younger than her, and is pleased the discussion stays on topics unrelated to kids and school. The evening feels like coworker gatherings in Chicago and Seattle, and it’s reaffirming to be reminded of who she was all those years ago on her own.

As the woman sitting next to her checks her phone, Myka stiffens as she asks the time. Helena begged her to meet for a nightcap at the bar to make up for missing dinner and Myka reluctantly agreed, but at this rate, it will close before she gets there.

“Sorry, I have to go,” she says, rising so abruptly her chair nearly topples backward. “I’ll see everyone tomorrow."

-TBC-

[vedantsaxena]

Week 1- Intro to Media Studies

As joining late for Media Studies, Shritej sir and I sat down and went through the syllabus where he taught me what will be coming in this year and what is expected out of me. We discussed about the different papers and what each of them consist of. We discussed also about the different things that come in component. We saw what each component consists;

First in my extra lecture I had started off with the Types of Movies, followed by Principles of Story Telling and the procedure of film making.

In the types of movies, we were taught Art Cinema and Commercial Cinema.

Under the process of film making there are 3 steps:

Pre-Production: It consists of Script, Actors, Budget, Story Board & Animation, Location, Dress and Shooting Schedule

Production: It consists of only Shooting

Post- Production: It consists of Editing, Sound Mixing, Dubbing and VFX/CGI

In the learning of principles of storytelling there are 10 principles which are as follows; 

Object: It is when a story revolves around an object. The movie Aladdin talks about how Young Aladdin embarks on a magical adventure after finding a lamp that releases a wisecracking genie.

Places: It is when a story revolves around a location or place. The movie Tumbbad, shows how a man and his son encounter a legendary demon while searching for hidden treasure in 19th-century India.

Conversation: It is when a story revolves around a conversation spoken by 2 or more characters. The movie Coffee and Cigarettes talks about a series of vignettes that all have coffee and cigarettes in common.

News: When a story relvoves around a news. The movie, Sound Of Music talks about how Maria, an aspiring nun, is sent as a governess to take care of seven motherless children. Soon her jovial and loving nature tames their hearts and the children become fond of her.

Nostalgia: It is when a story revolves around something done or  presented in order to evoke feelings of nostalgia. The movie, The Artist talks about how Peppy Miller falls in love with the silent film star George Valentin. Things change when Peppy becomes a famous actor while George's career goes downhill with the introduction of talkies.

Myth/History/Religion: When a story has a religious point of view. The  story can also be based on a historic event or a story with a myth. The movie, Gandhi talks about how a lawyer, Mohandas Gandhi, returns to British India from South Africa. He begins a nationwide campaign of non-violent resistance against British rule. The campaign pressures Britain to liberate India.

Backstory: When the character has a back story and the story is based  on it. The movie, The Gentleman Driver, talks about how Businessmen Ed Brown, Ricardo Gonzalez, Mike Guasch and Paul Dalla Lana moonlight as race car drivers.

Rumour: When the has a rumour in it. The film, Agyaat talks about Anu and Siddhu are in love and Siddhu turns up when Anu's family camps in a tiger sanctuary for a holiday. Unexpectedly, a sandalwood smuggler takes several members as hostages.

Calamity: It’s when a story has a natural calamity in it. The movie, San Andreas talks about how following a massive earthquake, Ray, a rescue-chopper pilot, and his ex-wife try to find the location of their daughter before earth's ultimate destruction.

Blending: It is a combination of all the principles. The movie, Ready Player One talks about  after death of James Halliday, the creator of the virtual reality world, his pre-recorded message reveals the hidden fortune, which makes Wade Watts, a teenager, embark on a quest.

Once sir taught me the principles of storytelling, he told me what is the format of story telling. There are 3 elements; Information, Conflict and Destiny. After this, sir told me to write a story with the first three principles; object, place and conversation with the format of Information, Conflict and Destiny.

In the other lecture this week, we were also taught for our editiing the different types of cutting methods like Harsh Cut, Match Cut, Cutting on action, Intercuts, J Cuts, L Cuts, Montage, Jump Cut, Cross dissolve, Fade In/Out, Cut away and Cross Cut.

Cut On Action: Cutting on action refers to film editing and video editing techniques where the editor cuts from one shot to another view that matches the first shot's action.

Intercut: These scenes are occurring at the same time. Instead of repeating the Scene Heading for each scene over and over.

J Cut: A technique in which the audio from a following scene overlaps the picture from the preceding scene, so that the audio portion of the later scene starts playing before its picture as a lead-in to the visual cut.

L Cut: A  technique in which the audio from preceding scene overlaps the picture from the following scene, so that the audio cuts after the picture, and continues playing over the beginning of the next scene.

Montage: Montage is a technique in film editing in which a series of short shots are edited into a sequence to condense space, time, and information.

Jump Cut: A jump cut is a cut in film editing in which two sequential shots of the same subject are taken from camera positions that vary only slightly.

Dissolve: It is basically represents the passage of time. While fast motion is also a great technique to show time passing, cross dissolves are much more common and easier to do.

Fade In/Out: Fade In is a dissolve is a gradual transition from one image to another, and Fade Out is a transition to and from a blank image. This is in contrast to a cut where there is no such transition.

Cut away: It is the interruption of a continuously filmed action by inserting a view of something else.

Cross Cut/Inter Cut:  It is used to establish action occurring at the same time, and usually in the same place. In a cross-cut, the camera will cut away from one action to another action, which can suggest the simultaneity of these two actions but this is not always the case.

Long Shot: Shows the subject from top to bottom; for a person, this would be head to toes, though not necessarily filling the frame. Eg: The picture below is from the movie “The Hobbit”.

Mid-Long Shot: Shows subject from the knees up.  The picture below is from the movie “The Good, The Bad And The Ugly”.

Mid-Shot: Shows part of the subject in more detail. For a person, a medium shot typically frames them from about waist up.  The picture below is from the movie “American Psycho”.

Mid-Close Shot: Falls between a Medium Shot and a Close-Up, generally framing the subject from chest or shoulder up. The picture below is from the movie “Alice in Wonderland ”.

Close-Up Shot: Fills the screen with part of the subject, such as a person’s face. The picture below is from the movie “Shining”.

Extreme Close Up: Emphasizes a small area or detail of the subject, such as the eye(s) or mouth. The picture below is from the movie “The Revenant”.

Over the shoulder (OS): A popular shot where a subject is shot from behind the shoulder of another, framing the subject anywhere from a Medium to Close-Up. The picture below is from the movie “The Spiderman: Homecoming”.

There were many other shots sir taught us like;

Ultra Wide/ Estabilishing shot: Used to show the subject from a distance, or the area in which the scene is taking place. The picture below is from the movie “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows”.

Birds-Eye View: A high-angle shot that’s taken from directly overhead and from a distance. The shot gives the audience a wider view and is useful for showing direction and that the subject is moving, to highlight special relations, or reveal to the audience elements outside the boundaries of the character’s awareness. The picture below is from the movie “Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind”.

Dutch Angle: Shot in which the camera is set at an angle on its roll axis so that the horizon line is not level. It is often used to show a disoriented or uneasy psychological state. The picture below is from the movie “ Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas ”.

Low Angle: Subject is photographed from below eye level. This can have the effect of making the subject look powerful, heroic, or dangerous. The picture below is from the movie “Batman VS Superman: Dawn of Justice”.

Top Angle: Subject is photographed from above eye level. This can have the effect of making the subject seem vulnerable, weak, or frightened. The picture below is from the movie “The Chronicles of Narnia”. 

Eye Level: Shot taken with the camera approximately at human eye level, resulting in a neutral effect on the audience. The picture below is from the movie “Get Out”.